


Blueshift

by Corvueros



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Mando, Din Djarin/Reader - Freeform, F/M, I know there no demand for this content, Mutual Pining, Only bottom!Mando, Oral Sex, Pegging, Reader-Insert, Sex Pollen, Smut, The Mandalorian (TV) Spoilers, but here we are, head empty, listen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27035284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvueros/pseuds/Corvueros
Summary: You were honestly a bit flattered when someone put a bounty on you.You were less enthused when your travel companion took the job and was set on teaching you a lesson or two. Turns out, the lesson was made for the two of you.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 30
Kudos: 208





	Blueshift

**Author's Note:**

> Jail. Send me to jail

Hot. Everything was so damn hot, sweltering didn’t even  _ begin _ to describe it. The sweat beading down the side of your face wasn’t doing you any favors as you gaped at your bound hands. Your jaw quivered over how tightly your teeth were clenched together, pressure building behind your skull. 

_ The nerve of it all.  _

Magnetic cuffs stung your wrists from being out in the sun too long, burning into your equally hot flesh. They dug hard into the bones of your wrist, lurching your whole body forward to follow the very fucking short leash invisibly attached from your wrists to the Mandalorian’s vambrace. You pray your glare is as deadly as you need it to be because it’s all you can muster after scraping your jaw off the ground. The Mandalorian wasn’t facing you. Walking steadily ahead of you after saying, quite literally, nothing then slapping the bracers on and shoving a blinking fob into your face.

You dig your heels into the sand  _ hard _ and yank with as much strength as you could muster, watching jovially as the Mandalorian stumbled backward. He swivels menacingly and settles you with what you are positive is a nasty glare. 

Oh, he’s mad? You are the one handcuffed to a bounty hunter. 

You were obviously delighted at first: someone actually dared to put a bounty on you? You were chomping at the bit to go find the asshole when Mando hauled you up and out the door. Without disengaging the cuffs. 

“ _ What _ -what are you kidding me? You’re really just going to hand me over?” You growl and take a step towards him, “What- how much?” You demanded, squinting harshly at him. 

Morbid curiosity begged you to find out who put a price on your head, just so you could laugh about it later, in the comfort of your own home. But this blind ambition to hand you over? It  _ stung _ if you were going to start being honest with yourself. Which, frankly, isn’t a habit you want to keep indulging in, so you push the stinging worry away even as your heart is in your throat. 

“Enough.” You couldn’t tell if he meant the credits or to shut you up but it was enough to have you steaming, teeth pulling at your lips and fingers already trying to worm their way into the circuitry of the cuffs. When he turned around to start walking you to your certain doom, you let out an indignant growl and hunkered down only to get thrown off balance and onto your knees. The sand heaved under your weight and you could feel the grain in your boots, trying to weigh you down one small piece at a time. 

“J-just fuckin’ wait a minute,” you very quickly tried a new approach, “Okay, first of all,” You tried to clear any venom out of your voice and asked, very nicely might you add, “Who did it?”

“Second of all, we  _ absolutely _ do not need extra credits- we are  _ fine,  _ we-we are in a good place so-” you swallow hard as he turns to face you again, now, much closer than he was before. You were only slightly thankful because while he was twice your size, he did block the sun from your eyes. But it didn’t help the shiver shooting up your spine and your heart hammering in your throat. Your struggle to stand again wasn’t graceful in the slightest but you maintained your glare. 

“Are we? Did we not just have to haggle someone down for  _ circuit boards? _ ” He wasn’t wrong but his indifferent tone made the pit in your stomach grow and you gnawed on the inside of your cheek. 

Damn it, he wasn’t wrong though. You were spreading yourself thin and really didn’t need this kind of trouble. A bounty makes things complicated, as you can imagine. Too many medaling hands coming in and fucking up the important things. 

Besides, you could care less for the slimy bastards, hunters never made the most pleasant company. Ironic seeing as you are currently bound tightly to one you’ve grown regrettably fond of. 

You were, however, not amused. And you were growing weary of trying to figure out why he enjoyed pushing your buttons so much. He wasn’t making it any easier when pushing your buttons is seemingly all he can do anymore. However, you are starting to see a...pattern emerge. An egotistical, senseless, and bratty little pattern in which the Mandalorian would get struck with a hell of an attitude and you were left to clean up the mess. 

“Who?” You demand again, standing your ground and digging your heels into the sand. 

“You don’t know?” 

“No, I don’t have a fucking clue- you know what? Cut the shit and-”

“I thought it was a bit...messy for you to get into a pissing match with a political figure.”

“Polit-” You start but immediately lower your voice to a harsh whisper like you both aren’t the only ones on the sandy dunes, “Political figure? I’ve been here for- like, two whole days!” You snarl.

He says nothing, only pressing close to drop the puck into your animated bound hands. You simply watch, unenthused, as your blue-lit bust pops up. Not a flattering picture. The result of liquor and some very powerful hallucinogens, not that you could remember. It was a second-hand account. 

_ 50,000 credits. _

“There is no fucking way-” Your mouth hangs open a bit as you stare into the holographic numbers proudly displayed over your head. 

“You’re lucky I was there when it dropped,” Mando rasped, his thumbs hanging from his belt, “But this isn’t something other hunters are going to breeze over.”

“Yeah, yeah of course but-” Who has the balls to drop a bounty  _ like this _ , on you? You, admittedly, haven’t had many bounties placed on your head and frankly, it was a bit exciting. It was something you wore with as much pride as one would wear your blaster. But this was something else entirely. You’d fucked up and made someone with a lot of money very mad.

And you have no idea who it was. 

“Who’s the client?” 

“Karoclan, their high council.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me- I’ve never even breathed anywhere near Karoclan.” You argue, uselessly, however, as the Mandalorian moves to take the puck from your hand. You raised your voice into a hysteric shout, hearing it echo over the dunes. None of it made sense but why would he lie about something like this?

“Doesn’t matter,” his tone left little room for argument and you huffed a little, “that bounty is going to attract the wrong kind of attention.” 

“It does matter, we could be walking into some kind of trap.” That amount could have you both sitting  _ real pretty _ for the next few months. But moreover, you wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing who put the price on your head, and boy, did you want to know. But this made your blood boil as you fumed bitterly, brows furrowed deeply. 

But bringing you right to the client’s doorstep without another thought? Something about it was unnecessarily reckless and rubbed you the wrong way. He could have at  _ least _ given you a heads up.

You weren’t just some random quarry, at least you never thought you were until now. 

But you swallow hard on your frustration. It can wait. Kicking the shit out of him would feel all the better when you didn’t have thousands of credits hanging over your head like a free meal to anyone gutsy enough to try. You swallowed your pride if only for a moment, to try and get a grip on your breathing. 

“Fine, let's give it a shot,” You stutter around your words and match his long strides, “I can wait long enough for you to get the Crest airborne then make a break for it but uh,” the cuffs jangle together loudly as you push away the hair sticking to your forehead, “I’ve never even seen the inside of their cantinas let alone a secure council buildings-” 

You cut yourself off with a huff, “And for the love of God- can you please take these off?” You wave your bound hands at him and he sighs loudly. 

Maybe it was the heat, the sun beating down on your back that was making you twitchy. The words were thick in your throat like molasses and your voice came out higher than you’d wanted, much shakier and you tried your best to push away the taste of panic crawling up your throat. You were safe. You were safe with the Mandalorian and if he truly wanted to turn you in for credits he would have done so a long time ago, but you just wished he-

He stopped and you were close enough to see sand pilling in the cracks and crevices of his armor. The cuffs were off in seconds, replaced by sun-warmed leather and cupping the angry red streaks left behind by the unforgiving metal. The guilt tasted bitter in his mouth and he made himself roll in it. He could hear it, the edge in your voice and when he turned he saw the feral beginnings of dread coiling behind your eyes, and the cuffs were laying in the sand within seconds. He got ahead of himself in his haste and it stabbed at his gut. 

“Sorry,” any other words got stuck in his throat as he tried to find reason in the growing tangle in his chest. You pull away faster than he wanted, shaking it off bitterly.

“We need an idea of the layout,” You roll your wrist dramatically and crack your knuckles expectantly, “if we can get into town I’m sure I can find the schematics somewhere.” 

“We don’t have the kind of time.”

“We’ll make time, then.” you argue, “Not every bounty hunter is going to come running to a colony like this.”

“I got in.” 

“Yeah? And whose ID did you use?” 

His jaw snapped shut and couldn’t retort fast enough before the shrill whistle of a train interrupted. 

The city closes in all around you as you top the sandy dunes to look out upon it. Tracks wound their way for hundreds of miles in every direction, all meeting together in a chaotically organized fashion at the mouth of the city. Steam poured out of spires and the shrill sound of iron against iron was a continuous barrage of white noise. This wasn’t a city born to the trading world, rather the overlords and traders found it. Those looking to sell their wares in Karoclan territory came from all over and shipments were delivered by the thousands every day. While you’ve ventured into the city, it was never too deep. 

The small population of Karoclan ruled the desert planet with an iron fist: specifically the drug cartel. Doing any business here was a messy ordeal and one you’d rather avoid. Having never even stepped in their black market, the fact you managed to step on someone’s toes from across the galaxy was concerning.

“Listen, I know better than to mess with Karoclan.” weariness heavy in your voice, “This doesn’t make any sense, and for all we know they’ll shoot me on the spot.” 

“Alive.” The word catches on static, “They want you alive.” 

You only had more questions. 

Stone emerged from the sand as you crossed the threshold of the city, near the docks. Overhead, cargo trains billowed passed on a floating railway, one after another. The smell of oil and the tang of steel rolled around in the back of your mouth as people flooded the walkways, merchants called their wares from the docks. It was just busy enough where nobody paid you any mind, in favor of watching their bank accounts grow.

A step ahead of you, Mando was silent and you were damn near having a meltdown. Every step you take, you have to fight the urge to turn tail and run. You desperately tried to keep your face neutral and hoped the dread didn’t show through. The people swarming around you practically swallowed any space between you and Mando. 

You were headed north, further into the city until the docks melted into a swirling bazaar of some sort. Beaded jewels glittered in the sun from their place hanging from the stalls, matched with woven carpets from expensive wool to drape the stones of the city in warmth.

It was nothing like the stories you’ve heard, about it being dark and barren during the day but as soon as night falls the casinos light up the city from the inside. You don’t remember much about Thedaros, only that it was off-limits to any professional endeavors on your end. But, maybe getting a good look at how they operate would give you some ideas. 

You didn’t see a single casino open, or the sound of roaring slots being played for credits. Only people, out and actually talking to each other without blasters involved. So your only hope was to find the nearest cantina and chat up the local drunks, or at the very least follow them until you found your way around. 

The closest cantina should do the trick and you’d kill for a drink right about now-

You look up and see Mando is nowhere to be seen. 

The smells and sounds of the bazaar assaulted your senses and you are alone.

Spices and smoke swirled around the stalls and people around you carried plants and loaves of bread over their shoulders. You tried your damndest to peek over the tops of people's heads and the brightly colored tents. You looked for the distinct gleam of beskar through the crowds of people, before giving up and heading to the outskirts. You grumble bitterly, how you managed to lose a walking wall of beskar was beyond you.

You stopped before an empty booth, a clear space in the wave of patrons. Looking back, the sea of people seemingly doubled into a steady stream following over the cobblestone. The only choice you had was to find a way off the main road. 

You careened into the nearest alley, silently fuming to yourself. The last thing that should have happened was for you to get separated when officials are looking for you all over the city. You’d rather be dragged to your potential demise by someone who had a chance of getting you out. 

Sunlight streamed down the small flight of stairs at the end of the alley before breaking off into a much quieter street. Eagerly, you climbed the steps and out onto the more barren street. Your shoulders relaxed upon seeing only a few stragglers roaming the streets and they paid you no mind. Good start, you were already looking for the drunks funneling into the nearest cantina. More or less to get a drink at this point than anything else.

Your fingers prodded your vambrace, attempting to open the com-link channel when the sharp shrill tone of a fob caught your attention. 

Seconds later, the icy barrel of a blaster sat at the base of your skull.

You freeze, fingers moving very slightly, and slowly to access the comlink to the Mandalorian. If you were going to take a blaster shot to the head, you were going to leave something for someone to hunt down the bastard with. However, behind you the feedback loop from your vambrace was loud, bouncing the signal back and forth unhappily.

“Easy.” The familiar vocoder static was close to your ear and you let out the breath you were holding, but the blaster moved from your head to rest gingerly on your shoulder. 

“Mando?” Your voice was a hush but venomous as you freeze in your spot. But you could still hear the fob, and it wasn’t coming from behind you. 

Gloved hands came up to grip your shoulder, a very clear warning not to move. The barrel of the blaster rested on your left shoulder, aiming down the street. Your eyes chase shadows along the walls when you catch the red blinking of a fob. Clutched in someone's hand and attempting to smother the light. 

Your hand twitches towards your blaster as you silently beg Mando to just take the shot already. 

He had the distinct stench of a bounty hunter that made you want to crawl out of your skin. His blaster was aimed from his hip, the sinister gleam of the barrel peeked out from ragged layers but he just stood there. You thought you’d have enough time to dodge the hunters flooding into the city but the ones already lurking got a head start.

No shots had been fired and you had precious seconds before shots rang out, your hand darted to your holster and shot from the hip. An armed quarry wasn’t something he was prepared for, evidently. 

The shot nailed him in the chest and the impact sent him back and down. Mando’s blaster fired seconds later and followed through, aiming steadily on your shoulder.

Once down, he didn’t move. 

The empty street stayed quiet as you listened closely, nobody was around and the bazaar swallowed the noise of the blaster shots. You let out a breath when the streets stayed blissfully silent and the Mandalorian stepped away, blaster still clutched tightly in his hand as he moved to stand in your line of sight. His hands moved from your shoulders and down your arms, touch feather-light and warmth seeped from his gloves. His hands grazed your knuckles where they are curled around your blaster, almost holding it himself as he presses your palm against the cool metal. 

“M’sorry.” He didn’t just mean for letting you wander off into the waiting arms of a hunter, either. He still held your hand and blaster tightly in his own, his throat closing up when he tried to say anything else of meaning. The moment that bounty dropped on you, nothing felt right. He was panicked, and it wasn’t like him. Jumping the gun and bringing you in as soon as possible had seemed like the only way out of this without any damage. Without any damage to  _ you. _ He swallowed hard on the sputtering explanations clawing their way up to his throat, smothering them with wordless guilt. 

It was hard to breathe with him so close, the blaster smoke seemed to roll off of him in the bright heat. Here it was easier to keep him close, and maybe you could coax him into some sort of scheme that seems a little safer and less pig-headed. 

“Listen, we should take a moment and think of a plan,” your voice was close to his ear, soft and pleading, “If we can find a floor plan, I can try and meet you there and get the hell outta dodge but…” you trail off a bit and worry your lip. There is a chance they might just kill you as soon as you step foot inside the city and you won’t even have the chance to run. The act of running in head first, over-confident, seemed like a death wish. 

“We’ll talk,” he insisted, “and  _ you’ll _ pay for any damages.” His tone was a warning, “But, I’ll be right behind you.” it was meant to sound menacing but it just came out soft. Far softer than he intended.    
  


He stepped away first but tucked his hand against your back in a grossly tender way to lead you to your destination further into the city. 

“Fine! Fine,” You agree easily, “I’ll make amends but there’s a reason I’ve never fucked with Karoclan.” Your eyes lingered on the shadows, watching for the tell-tale blinking red light of a fob tracker. Thedaros Prime was a place barred from bounty hunters, not even guild members are let in without being thoroughly searched for a fob. The black market was their source of revenue and they didn’t take kindly to hunters trying to kill off their deep-pocketed merchants. Evidently, that changed over the years.

You flowed through the crowds like water, and you began to see why people liked this place so much. Well, bounty hunters aside and all. Everyone kept their eyes on the ground, heads bowed low, and minding their own damn business. Out of fear or callousness, you didn’t care but those passing between trains with cargo and citizens alike kept their nose deep in their own business. Ideal for a place whose black market is flourishing tremendously.

Crowds parted for incoming bullet trains and old rattlers alike, chittering with one another mindlessly. Those who lounged in the lap of luxury sauntered, arms weaved together, expensive suit and dress carefully tailored to avoid the sand stuck deep in the cracks in the stone. It looked like veins of gold in the yellow lights lining the streets. 

The Mandalorian stayed a step ahead of you, guiding you to what could only be described as your untimely demise. You knew that might not be the case but the unfamiliar city wasn’t bringing you any comfort. You stepped over tracks and stone until you were headed directly for a station. It was rather barren compared to the mightier ones with clocks in the heart of the city but it was hot with steam inside and locomotives had settled on the tracks with passengers inside.

It’s overwhelmingly lavish, velvet shades are drawn over most of the windows, and people dressed for the occasion filing in and around the couch. The type of fancy that meant deep pockets you couldn’t compete with. The Mandalorian headed straight for it, but not before tossing the cuffs behind him and into your hands. You grimaced, tucking away your blaster out of sight before pulling the dreadful binders over your wrists. You held them out in front of you, discreetly as you could muster while still maintaining your pride. He hardly looked as he snapped them into place deftly, fingers closing around the magnetic bindings and tugging you closer. The sound of the binders in front of you clacked deafeningly in the crowd of voices as you struggled to keep up with Mando’s long strides. You tried to keep the scowl off your face but your reflection in the beskar said otherwise as you were brought to the mouth of the boarding ramp. 

A man, who you can imagine is the conductor, sharply dressed looked shrewdly down his long nose. He says nothing as you approach and stays that way until Mando pulls a slightly crumpled ticket sized paper from a pocket and offers it to the conductor. He takes it swiftly and examines it closely, whatever was on it seemed to appease him as he nodded and handed it back before stepping aside. You were led up the ramp swiftly and you stopped when your feet hit the royal red carpet. Cigar smoke and perfume hung thick in the air and laughter could be heard faintly through the compartment doors all around you. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, voice hushed like others were listening. 

He says nothing and you feel yourself receding into your worn boots. Your back had been sweating for what feels like hours in the dry heat, The collar of your jacket sticking close to the back of your neck as your eyes raked in the view. The view has the most wonderful ass you’ve ever seen- if only he’d ditch the cape every once in a while. 

You were led down more straight hallways, lined with compartments oozing cigar smoke and the clinking of drinks. The train was well staffed, ladies dressed elegantly in black strolled down the lane with suitcases and trays of drinks. Mando moved deftly by them all to an unknown destination. You must have been reaching the end of the train when he turns left and slows before a large compartment, the velvet curtains were drawn but you could hear muffled voices coming from within. 

The Mandalorian slides the door open with little tact and the voices stop.

“Ah, your grace,” You peeked around Mando’s wide torso and see an elegant man who’d perked up at your arrival, shimmying the heavy cloaked fabric steadily on his shoulder with a flourish, “Your company has returned, with the fruits of your labor.” The sly snark in his voice was more malicious than you deemed acceptable but that was hardly a surprise at this point. Your metaphorical hackles rose at the unspoken challenge and you kept your chin straight and up, your fingers gave your anxieties away to only the Mandalorian beside you as looped them together in the binds in front of you. 

You were not, however, equipped to school your expression as the subject of your bounty swivels around wistfully to face you. Mando stood silent beside you, shoulders brushing together as his hand swiftly wraps itself around the crook of your elbow in a grossly tender movement at your alarming stiffness. 

The woman did not smile as she turned to face you, but it was a familiar face. 

“Zahida, I must admit I wasn’t prepared to meet your acquaintance today,” You swallow any malice as you step as confidently as you could muster towards the center of the room where the company rose to meet you, “I would have worn my nice shoes, pity about the carpets.” 

She was just as beautiful as you remember. Her face was always round with a youthful type of glow when she was younger, but her features had sharpened with age as she appraised you. Long and elegant as ever, she sprawled her arms over the cushions behind her. 

The man from before opened his mouth indignantly, already half sputtering before Zahida raised her palm. His jaw snapped shut loudly and his glare burned through you. 

Beside you, the Mandalorian kept a hold on your arm but it was purely for show as your blaster was brought from your waistline and into a position more easily accessible to you but you hoped you wouldn’t have to use it. Not with her.

“The abruptness is a by-product of my thinning patience,” She ignored the comment completely. As beautiful as she may be, the cut of venom in her voice was hard to get past and made your blood run cold.

“I had to make certain you’d arrive before the northern parties get here, you remember how they overrun the hangers like a pack of animals.” However, the frost in her tone melted into something far more familiar and almost teasing.

It was the note to break the frigid worry around your limbs and ease you into being able to talk your way out of this. While this was no longer the girl you knew all those years before, it was good to hear that time hadn’t shaken a certain warmth from your acquaintance. Her eyes were vicious with myrrh as she narrowed them at you, her lips quirking before settling into a hard line again. 

Her hand rose as she regarded you and the Mandalorian beside you, “Leave us.” her voice dismissed those present in the room, but they did not go without a sneer. Leave it to the royal drunks to decide they didn’t approve of their precious mingling with anyone but the high order- bunch of pansies. 

The room was cleared fast and soon you were left alone with Zahida and her heady gaze. Mando, who had not strayed far from your person, was a comforting presence and even more so when the binders became looser around your wrists but still hung on lightly just for effect. 

“I heard you were back in orbit, my friend,” Zahida crosses the small room in a long, effortless glide, “I figured I’d get you an escort, expedite the process a bit, yes?” The humor in her voice was like molasses and it grew warm when her company left the room. 

Mando, confused by the sudden change in tone, held his ground and watched you from the corner of his eye as Zahida turned her pointed gaze on him, “Release the cuffs, Mandalorian, there is no need for them.” The cuffs were shaken loose into his hands where they fell as you wiggled out of them. Your gaze shifts to his under the helm, your innocent smile eased him as your fingers brushed over his sweetly. You didn’t seem to hold the same worry you did moments ago, you were more relaxed as you turned your attention back to your host.

Something tells him he wasn’t about to be paid. 

“You could have simply called, like a normal person.” You argue lightly, rubbing your wrists, “beats having to clean up my dead body from a hunter.” 

“And yet, you stand here with not a scratch on your pretty little head,” Zahida smiles viciously, her tone endlessly teasing, “And because I am quite cross with you.” 

You swallow a groan and run all the possibilities in your head, “Whatever I did, I promise it was in good taste.” 

“Wrong, you totaled my x-wing,” She insisted politely, “It's going to set you back a pretty penny, old friend.” 

Ah. That you did. 

You’d all but completely forgotten about it, it happened the last time you spoke with her almost ten years ago. Though there wasn’t much speaking involved as it was more a gunfight but still, not much you could have done to save it. It was an accident, obviously, but one you’d hoped was forgotten. 

But it was  _ years _ ago, you only vaguely remembered what happened that night anyway. Though that might have been the copious amounts of booze you ingested beforehand. Still, you know for a fact you’ve been close enough to the Kalos system for her to catch wind long before this moment in time. So why now?

“How much?” 

“I’ll let you guess.”

The 50,000 credits were...appropriate. Unfortunately. 

“I thought Karoclan had relief funds for this sort of thing.” 

“My dear, do you see any Karoclan here?”

The train lurches forwards into a crawl and the steam-filled pipes whistled loudly on the platform. Your confusion was evident on your face and Zahida let out a good-natured chuckle and leaned forward on her seat. 

“Karoclan has no claim over Thedaros,” she says with an air of authority, “not anymore.” 

“Change of power?” it was almost unheard of, Karoclan just leaving. There had to have been a fight and much bloodshed, “Who’s in charge?”

“I am,” she says with a wonderful flourish, “and you are very lucky that this is the case.” 

“You? Wait-“ your brows furrowed, “you?” 

Her laugh was warm and familiar and suddenly you were a child again, running through the woods barefooted with a much younger Zahida with sparkling eyes. 

“Is it that surprising?” She teased, eyes warm as she sought out your palm, “The south could only occupy me for so long, any more and I feel my sisters and I would be at each other's throats.” 

“I’ll take your word for it but,” you huff humorously, “why here?”

“Why not?” she smiles victoriously as she straightens her long spine, “I needed a change of scenery. And a change in a husband.”

“And you’re married? I’ve been away too long,” You couldn’t picture her hanging off the arm of some man, even if he was filthy rich. 

Zahida only sighs and drapes herself dramatically over the red velvet seats, “A widow I’m afraid.” The sorrow in her tone was sickeningly fake and she could hardly keep the smile off her face, “you recall Marco, don’t you?” 

“You married _ Marco? _ ”

“I wanted Thedaros Prime, and he held it in the palm of his hand.” she said viciously, “Now it is mine.” 

The coldness in her tone told you that, whatever happened to Marco was no unfortunate accident. 

It warmed you to see she hadn’t changed much with age. 

“My first order as  _ Countess _ was to finally rid the city of Karoclan, “ she says simply, as if talking about getting lunch, “And start anew.” 

You slouch back against the plush seat and you feel the icy touch of beskar beside you. Taking in a breath your lips curled, “And here I thought I was being brought to my death.” 

“Nonsense,” She waved her manicured hands, “though I won’t lie and say it wasn’t meant to scare you.” Her smirk is good-natured as she appraises you. 

“Scare is a strong word,” you insist, eyes flicking to Mando beside you who sat stiffly and silent. 

“Speaking of which, you’ve yet to introduce us.” Zahida’s attention was turned to the Mandalorian, eyes sparklingly. 

“Haven’t you? You hired him.” 

“Yes, yes but I wasn’t paying attention,” she said plainly and you snort with laughter. 

But you heed her request, “Mando, meet Countess Zahida of Thedaros Prime,” you narrow your eyes at her, “your unfortunate employer.” 

She ignored your jab and continued, “Speaking of business, “ she starts and you heave out a sigh and interrupt before she can continue.

“Yes, about that-” you peel off your gloves and tuck them safely in your belt, “Zahida, I don’t have the money.” You figured speaking plainly would please the both of you more than dancing around the fact that you just don’t have the money. Business has been scarce since Karoclan monopolized cities and planets alike and your business suffered the most. You hoped, as a friend, she would let you pay off your debt gradually but something tells you that might be wishful thinking. 

“I figured as much.” she tucked her hand under her chin as she appraised you, “which is why I have a counter offer.” 

“I’m listening.” Mando sat up straighter beside you, arm brushing yours.

“Stay in Thedaros, just for tonight, “ she hummed, “and you can consider your debt paid in full.”

There was a slight pause, the squealing of iron against iron tracks echoed all around you and steam fogged the window, blurring the fast-moving surroundings. 

“That’s...it?” you conclude, confused if nothing else. 

“That is all,” she says with an air of finality. Her gaze is nothing if not intense as she started you down, daring you to take the bait. 

“What’s the catch?” 

Her smile board lined depraved, “Tonight is for celebration and,” her voice hushed, “it's been too long since I’ve had pleasant company to enjoy it with.” 

“What’s tonight?” you, truthfully, didn’t want to know but asked anyway.

“Daryah N’ox, it is the solstice after all,” Zahida said plainly. She was observing you closely, enough to make your hair stand up. Admittedly, it had been a fair amount of years since you’ve spoken the language of her people, let alone remember their holidays so nothing was ringing any bells. 

Zahida’s grin only grew wider, “Participate.” 

50,000 settled and paid just like that. Nothing added up and you dreaded even hearing what this ceremony consisted of. 

The train screeched on the rails and slowed. The carts jangled, their chains heavy and cold against the sun-warmed tracks. Pulling into the station hid away the setting sun and was lit only by electrical lamps. 

“What will it be, old friend?” 

  
  
  
  


After some very fast deliberation, you find yourself very uncomfortable with the crowd drawn into the terrifyingly large coliseum. There was an array of people bustling in front of you, in various stages of undress. 

Zahida made it known to you that the so-called celebration didn’t begin until sundown, this was just pre-game she called it, making you feel like you were in a basement party hiding booze again. But she was enjoying herself immensely by the look of it, glancing your way every so often to measure your discomfort and snicker to herself about it. It was humiliating. But, there wasn’t much you could do about it. 

And if you thought you were uncomfortable? The Mandalorian was about to have a meltdown inside his suit and nobody would have any idea. Standing as stiff as a board beside you and not saying a word, shoulders up around his ears and ready to turn tail and run. The only thing keeping him from doing so was you. Holding on to him for dear life practically as you never let him out of your sight, muttering about how if you have to suffer through this, so does he. It seemed reasonable, he is the one who brought you here, after all, so you were just extending your _ gratitude. _

The stream of people flooding into the common space was never-ending. They laughed and hugged one another, all draped in brightly colored clothes with fine, expensive embroidery stitched in. There was music coming from somewhere and it bubbled over the voices of the crowd, a lovely tune and one you’ve heard before but it didn’t bring any comfort to you. As the crowd got larger, you eased away into the outskirts and up the high seats of the colosseum and Mando followed silently. You knew he was distressed, everything from how his palm would jump to the butt of his blaster whenever someone got too close, to staying so still you couldn’t even tell he was breathing. It was getting to the both of you and you could only tell yourself it was only one night so many times. 

“-Anyhow, he went ass over tea kettle and the only thing helping him cling pathetically to that rock was,” A hand grabbed your shoulder and twirling you around and you were face to face with the wine-flushed faces of Zahida’s court who were all enthralled by her tale, “this one. Mind you she was a fair bit smaller at the time.” The couriers gushed their praise and you felt under your collar grow hot. You said nothing and glanced back over your shoulder, trying to see if Mando was within reaching distance and finding him reluctantly locked in conversation with a severely inebriated man who tried to offer him a glass of wine in his drunken stupor. 

But hands were grabbing at yours, people greeting you fondly and introducing themselves and you immediately forgetting their names. The conversation was boring but the drunks made it more enjoyable as you tried your very best to charm your way out of their grasp. Zahida seemed happy, really. Her smile was familiar and from the looks of things, it had been a long time since her staff had seen her this pleased. It gave you a little confidence, she did say she only wanted company and she seemed entirely content re-telling your old adventures to anyone who’d listen. 

You looked behind you again, hoping to see Mando behind you but were horrified to see the space behind you empty. Your head whipped around, looking for him in the crowd and only seeing unfamiliar faces. You hoped this wasn’t turning into a habit. 

Something didn’t sit well with you, not after Zahida’s repeated glances at you with that small smirk playing on her lips. It sent your stomach into knots and worse yet, you still couldn’t see Mando through the crowd- 

The very same crowd of people who are currently disrobing very fast and tangled in various embraces with one another. You were most certainly looking at the beginnings of some sort of orgy and your eyes shoot away from the scene like a teenager, meeting Zahida’s gaze as it was already burning through you. 

They were narrowed in silent glee as she appraised your unease, catching your eye she smiles sweetly, “Squeamish already? Here I thought you might enjoy this part.” 

“Is that all this is, some roundabout way of hosting an orgy?” 

“No, of course not,” she scolded you, “if I had wanted to host one I would have done so ages ago,” She sounds exasperated, “It’s a tradition, from my home and now I have brought it to Thedaros Prime.” 

“It’s a celebration, and an ancient one at that,” She continues, “to honor life in the passing of spring and birth of summer, its connection the way it was meant to be shared.” You hated how wise she sounded, a sleepy smile taking over her features as she explained. 

“You really couldn’t have given me a heads up?” 

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides,” She settled you with a piercing look, “teaching you a lesson is why you’re here in the first place, my dear.” 

“Oh? And what’s that?” Your tone is sharp as you cross your arms over your chest, feeling like a child being chastised. 

“Take a page out of our book: connect,” she said the word with such conviction and level gaze, it sent a shiver down your spine. 

A lewd cry echoed around the stadium as you opened your mouth to respond sharply, your attention being swallowed up by the intense swarm of bodies writhing in mass. Onlookers praised those involved, some continuing to join the celebration as a steady tune is carried through the air. 

The room grew exponentially hotter and you could feel the heat rising to your face. 

_ Connect. _

The words rang loudly in your head. Followed closely by a feminine moan and heavy panting. It was a lot, looking up there are so many bodies tangled with one another and joining a symphony of moans. Even those on the outside looking in were extraordinarily affectionate, staying close together and caught in riveting conversation all the while admiring each other. You’d seen nothing like it before. 

A few feet away, two women catch your wandering gaze. Your eyes meet for a split second, one of them even smiles at you before bringing forward a bowl and offering it to the other. You couldn’t see the contents of the bowl but the shorter woman’s face lit up and she dipped two of her fingers in. Taking them out, her fingers were dripping with a pink transparent syrupy liquid, you didn’t recognize it. Drawing the other close, she raised those same fingers to the blonde’s face and began drawing it into her skin. A blissed-out smile settled on her face, her eyes fluttering shut with a dreamy sigh.

The shorter woman traced words on her cheeks, and symbols on her forehead before drawing her into a passionate kiss. Your eyes flick away from the scene, it felt impolite to stare. But the high moan from the blonde drew your gaze back reluctantly. She had pulled away and dipped her fingers in the bowl. She wasn’t the only one, all around the room everyone seemed to have the same liquid and were tracing it onto the skin of others around them. Giggling softly to each other as they prodded and caressed the liquid into their skin and you watched as the glossy pink liquid melted into the skin and was gone seconds later. 

In the center of the room, a large man held another close as he mounted them and dragged his fingers through the pink liquid he pooled in the small of their back. Thick cords lay around their necks and a pendant hung down from it. They groaned loudly and breathlessly as the man began tracing something in what you assumed is  Thedian  on their back. You were close enough to see his cock moving in and out of them, rubbing the remains of the liquid lovingly into their sides and up their neck. The volume in the room seemed to increase as a whole and-

A light touch on your arm startled you, you were more than embarrassed to be caught staring but when you turned you were met with the two women from before. 

They said nothing and only smiled warmly before moving closer, one wrapping an arm around the crook of your elbow and the other gripping your shoulder in a light caress. 

You didn’t mean to stiffen so much under the touch, but you were about to excuse yourself from the situation entirely when the blonde lightly touched the side of your cheek, all words die on your tongue. You wanted to ask what they wanted when she brought up two slick fingers, coated in the glossy liquid, and made a move to cup your face. A hand dropped to her shoulder before she could, however. 

Zahida was beside you and easing the girls away, “I know it's tempting but she’s not for you, darling,” Zahida spoke in a soft teasing tone and the blonde pouted but pulled away regardless. Her pout melted into a sweet smile as she ran her hand down your arm as she pulled off, winking cutely before melting into Zahida’s side. The shorter one held something up to Zahida, an engraved metal plate tied to a tick cord much like the two in the center of the room were wearing. 

“Ah, thank you, my dear,” She praised her sweetly and gathered the necklace in her hands and drew it over your head.

“You may need this, or you may not.” She chimed cryptically as the cold metal settled over your collarbones. 

Need this? What even  _ is _ this? The steel glimmered in your hand as you picked it up to read it.  _ Rin-ehu: Provider _ , painstakingly engraved into the metal. You only had more questions.

The blonde mewled at Zahida’s touch and she retreated with both of them tucked under her arm, smiling softly at you before melting into the crowd with them. 

Was it getting harder to breathe? Maybe air would be nice? Yeah, just getting some air would do you some good and-

Oh god,  _ Mando _ . 

You whip around on your heel and are faced with a door behind you. One of the many exits leading further into the building and its corridors from the stands. 

You should look for him. Particularly in dark corners and empty rooms where he’s most definitely having a meltdown. You had almost forgotten he was even in here with you, in fact. Everything in the room was dizzying and had you forgetting why you even came here in the first place, but once you stepped out into the barren corridor your mind cleared and it was easier to breathe again. The whole world seems to slow in there, the participants giving up their day to day life just for one night and it was intoxicating to simply even bear witness to.    
  


The temperature outside the room dropped, your skin breaks out in goosebumps under your jacket. It was much darker compared to the room behind you all washed in yellow natural light, lit by the setting sun and the shadows were tall on the wall. The corridors were long but barren, not a soul was out wandering but you could still faintly hear the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and the cries of pleasure through the thick walls. 

Right, you assume Mando hauled ass out of there very quickly and was loose in the corridors somewhere. You picked up the pace and jogged a few paces and around the corner, the hallway still empty like the last. But light spilled onto the floor, warm and golden, from a door, cracked open and left open. Shadows from the people inside danced along the cold stone and illuminated a small sliver of the hallway. But someone came out of it, and you were willing to bet money it was Mando.

All you had to do was find him and find an empty room, preferably one with a lock to wait the night out. Zahida only said to stay the night, right? You’ll tell her you did plenty of ‘ _ participating’ _ in the morning. 

You damn near jump out of your skin as you turn the corner and slam right into somebody. Somebody who was wearing a damn sheet of metal on their chest, which your forehead collided with head-on. You groaned and immediately cradled your throbbing forehead with a grimace, just about doubling over and sputtering out any insult you could think of. Glancing back up, you are about to bark something at him but your eyes land on the thick brown cord hanging around his neck. Your breath hitches, an engraved pendant lays peacefully on his chest much like the one you were given. 

Din practically blanketed himself over you, lifting your head in his hands to look at the welt smack in the middle of your forehead with breathless apologies spilling from his lips. 

You only lift your hand to cup the small steel plate and bring it closer, Din’s words die on his lips as he watches you scrutinize the necklace harshly.

_ Ly-min-ri: To receive. _

“Where did you get this? Who gave-” 

The door to your left creaked open and a woman stepped out, flushed but beaming so brightly. 

“Our honored guests of the night, just who I was looking for.” Her grin was wide but didn’t even introduce herself before sweeping forward and taking your arms, “And you’ve already been tagged, already a step ahead.” She winked at you and you furrowed your brow. You’ve been tagged? 

Before you could ask, she eased you both to the right and further down the hall, “The countess made special arrangements for you, no need to be a stranger.” She said humorously, you couldn’t see her grin in the dark corridor but you could hear it. 

“Right, uh thanks- What is tagging?” You interrupt, Zahida answered absolutely none of your questions about anything and you felt like you were about to walk yourself into a corner. You were walking into this blind but, it made you feel better that the Mandalorian was failing around in the dark with you. You peeked at him from the corner of your eye, as he followed silently but tilted his helmet your way and caught your gaze. 

The woman paused briefly to tap her chin, “Organization purposes.” 

If that wasn’t vague, you didn’t know what was. Organization? There wasn’t anyone with another necklace close enough to you in the stadium room to see what was engraved on them but there must be some category system in place, one that Zahida deliberately withheld from you. 

You were slowed to a stop in a hallway lined with doors, in what you’d assume to be the living quarters. You breathed a silent sigh of relief, maybe you could spend the rest of the night locking in a room after all. 

“Besides, people tend to find them useful when the time comes.” The woman pushed open the door and stepped aside to let you through, her dreamy smile never vanishing through it all. 

“When- When the time comes? What’s going to happen?” You sputter at her, hurriedly stepping into the room but any other questions you were about to fire were forgotten when you glanced around the room. It was modest, an uncomfortable-looking mattress laid on a wooden bed frame and a bay window on the far wall let the syrupy yellow glow of the lit streets below filter in. In the corner there was a table and on it sat a pitcher of what looked like water and a wooden bowl. You didn’t have to guess to know what was inside it. 

“Transports will be waiting to take you back to the station in the morning, please enjoy your time here with us.” Something about the way she said it sounded so clinical compared to the warm, airy tone she used, “Oh before I forget, the Countess would like to see not a drop wasted.” 

Not a drop wasted? A drop of what? The vivid pink liquid flashes in your mind but you push it away, you don't want to dwell on the chaos that broke out in the stadium for even just a drop of it. 

She was already retreating down the hall and bounding back to the nearest entrance to what you assume to be the stadium. She only took a few steps and then ducked behind a door, it made your hair stand up on end at the thought of being so close to Zahida and her  _ festivities. _

You sigh and resist the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose; under any other circumstance, you might have been enthralled by all the commotion and gladly join in the fun but now? You wanted nothing more than to hide away somewhere far more private than here. After a silent moment of watching her leave, Mando stepped forward and closed the door. You wish you could say it felt more comfortable in here, this is what you wanted right? But instead, it just feels suffocating and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t know why. 

“Your friends seem,” Din’s mouth felt dry, “pleasant.” He tried to make it sound genuine but the way he eagerly turned the inside lock said otherwise. 

“That's very kind of you to say,” You sigh and crumple onto the bed. It was just as uncomfortable as you thought it would be, “Zahida would have had a field day if we stayed any longer, then you would have chosen a different word.” 

“Cruel, then.” He said matter-of-factly. If you had to choose any word for her, however, cruel would be high on the list of possibilities. Right behind cunt. 

“Listen,” You started with a sigh and fiddled with your sleeves, you couldn’t make yourself look up at him. You felt hot, but you could feel the cold chill from the open window but you were still fighting the urge to shed your layers. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this, if I had known it was Zahida I would have spared you the effort.” You tried to make your voice light and jovial but all you could hear was how dry your throat had become. 

Your urges won in the end, and you shrugged off your jacket and vest and relished in the cold breeze washing over your heated skin. Your vest stuck to you uncomfortably as you peeled it away from you and tossed them both away from you onto the table. 

The bowl, unfortunately, was still sitting there and you felt the Mandalorian’s heated gaze on it. You wish you could have jerked away from the thick scent that settled in the back of your throat as you hovered over it. It was the same smell that hung heavy in the stadium and it made your mouth water and stomach turn at the same time. It was like your body didn’t know how to react to it but your fingers itched in your gloves and you longed to scoop some on your fingers and feel it on your skin. 

Din didn’t answer but stepped up beside you, helmet angled down to the bowl. You were torn between trying to figure out what the hell it is or brushing it off and try to make a light-hearted joke to break the tense silence. 

“It’s-” Din spoke and a shiver rockets up your spine and you can feel the heat rolling off of him, “It’s the same stuff from the uh-” He clears his throat lightly and says nothing else, he doesn’t have to because you can already feel your face burning. You didn’t want to think about how long you both lingered in that room, and you certainly didn’t want to think about how maybe he was just as enthralled as you were. 

“Yeah. it is but I still don’t know what the hell it is…” You feel yourself remove your gloves but your head feels fuzzy and the stronger the urge to touch it became. There was a pit in your stomach and it was burning a hole through you and before you think about it anymore, your fingers breach the surface of the liquid.

It was thick and syrupy but the longer your fingers swirled around in it, the warmer it seemed to become. Before you knew it, it was biting at the skin of your fingers like menthol, going cold and then hot again. The warmth spread through your fingertip and up your arm until the heat enveloped you whole. Panting, you pull your hand away faster than you meant to and cradled it to your chest. Mando was close to you instantly, steadying you with a hand on your shoulders, you could feel the cold beskar against your back and you melted into it. It was blissfully cold against your slick skin. You may have never seen anything like this before, but it was no doubt some kind of amorous agent but nothing like you’d ever seen before in all your years in the cartel. 

Din says your name softly to get your attention, “What's going on?”

You desperately wished you could answer but something coiled deep in your stomach and you blindly gripped the dresser to try and steady yourself as your vision blurred. 

“It’s- _ , _ ” you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs and you white-knuckled the wooden dresser, “It’s some kind of amorous ointment-” Mando followed your hunched form, his hands were  _ hot _ on your skin. It burned through your thin layers and your cunt bottomed out, you could feel yourself getting horribly slick. 

“Amorous? They’re dosing themselves?” Mando seemed far too relaxed but maybe you were just projecting. You push yourself away to try and clear your head, did- _ fuck _ , did he always smell so fucking good? Your mind and body were at war, you know better than this. You need to put space between the two of you, the last thing you wanted was to make him so much more uncomfortable than he already was. 

This was your fault in the first place, and now he might be dosed with some sort of super overpowered Love-wallop. You can do this.  _ You can do this, you just have to last the night- _

“Y-yeah, Aphrodisiac, amative substance- like,” You swallow hard and you feel yourself over-salivating and you spit the words out like a dictionary definition, “A really, _ really  _ strong Love-Wallop dose but  _ uh _ topical.” You prayed that it was coherent. 

The room was silent for a pause before his voice rumbled in your ears, “We can’t do this.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” You snap, “Just give me a minute to think.” You feel your face grow hot, guilt already sinking its teeth into you for snapping at him. But you can’t  _ focus _ when you can feel just how wet and hot you are, everything clinging so uncomfortably close to your body. 

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, taking you by the shoulder and turning you to face him. You couldn’t look him in the eye. 

You nod furiously and will your legs to move you to the bed, that was a bold-faced lie and you knew it. This was so much stronger than you ever thought a topical substance could be. Before you realize it, you are brushing off his hands and catching his wrist. He hissed on contact and you thought you hurt him but realize your error far too late. Your fingers were still dripping with the pink liquid and had smeared itself on his pulse point, slipping between the fabric of his gloves and the beginning of his sleeve. 

“Shit, _ shit- _ ” You stared at the damp spot on the sliver of skin for a few moments before jumping to action, desperately trying to rub off as much as you could from his wrist. But the damage was done and too far gone, “I’m so sorry Mando I-”

“It’s-it’s okay,” Din’s voice trembled as the spot on his wrist  _ burned _ , “It’s not- _ hah- _ poisonous is it?” He asked, he knew he saw others in the stadium eagerly drizzling it over their bodies but the sensation was so intense he didn’t know what to think anymore. 

You shake your head firmly, “No, they were putting it all over themselves and it was far more than what we were exposed to.” You were impressed at how steady your voice came out and you tried your best to focus on the inky blackness of his visor but it was too much. Right? They wouldn’t participate with lethal doses, that just wouldn’t make sense. 

You blink, and the red rim to your eyes is gone but he knows he saw it. That feral panic is back in your eyes, but you were already deep in thought. He already knows it’s not your fault, and you don’t tell him you’re already scolding yourself for it but he knows. The burning on his wrist fades into a sweet warmth before his eyes, any frustration faded with it. 

It felt good. Like amber whiskey being injected in his veins type of  _ good. _ The light around you became softer, the shadows reaching up the walls became blurrier and he watched you breathe. In and out, he watched your chest move and tried to match it with his own. It was grounding and he worked to wrap himself around it, savoring it.

He glanced at your face, studying your own frantic eyes. You must have felt his eyes on you because your eyes flick up to his skittishly and you worry your lip and suddenly, Din feels a lot better about the burning pit of his stomach when you look up at him. You are right here with him, and he can see the wheels turning in your mind as you run your outlandish equations and try to science everything away. You were still holding him, warm hands clasping his own and he felt his guard come tumbling down. He knew you were worried, you looked almost frantic as you tried to think of anything to do but Din felt weightless as he guided both of you back to the bed. 

He turned you and you followed guiltily, a firm hand between your shoulder blades pushed you to the bed. Din moved to follow but stopped, helmet tilted down to the bowl. 

_ Not a drop wasted. _

He picked it up without another thought and brought it over to your slumped figure on the bed. Your back was against the wall and Din could see how hard you were trying to remain composed but you couldn’t unfurrow your brows or unclench your thighs. You came into more contact with it than he did and the guilt is written all over your face but Mando simply places the bowl down in your lap. You look up at him, confused and he watches you open your mouth to question him but he turns away.

He looked at the door, he remembers locking it but he double-checked anyway before moving to the window. He pushed the latch into the locked position and pushed aside the curtain, more light flooded the modest room and cast everything in a dreamy yellow glow. Infrared coated his vision, looking for heat signatures in the room and outside it. There was no winking light giving away any security measures or cameras and he couldn’t stop the wave of relief cooling his overheated body. You had sat up by the time he made his way back to you, watching him curiously with the bowl tightly gripped in your palms.

While you were busy pushing the warm static between your legs away and out of your mind, it seems Mando had a much different train of thought and arrived at an equally different decision as he walked methodically around the room. You imagined he was looking for anything suspicious or some sort of camera system but came up empty, he was surprised at the delight bubbling in his chest. You were safe. He was  _ safe _ in your hands. 

“How much you think is in there?” Din asks you, his voice warm and rich and your panties are absolutely  _ ruined _ . You could feel the uncomfortable tug of the sopping wet fabric against the blushed folds of your pussy and it took everything in you to not squirm in your spot. 

“Reckon a few ounces.” You scrape together all two of your working brain cells to grace him with a response but even then, your voice is rough and the wetness pooling in your mouth isn’t enough to quell the dryness in your throat. But it’s all you have now, and you can’t pass off that low rasp as frustration anymore. 

He only hummed and paused for a beat, he seated himself across for your half folded form with his legs stretched out in front of him as he rested his weight on the palms of his hands. He spoke softly, so softly but with such ease, it made your core ache, “We have all night, then.”

You were torn between praising his level head or burning up in embarrassment at his forwardness. Both of those options left you in a state close to frantic. 

“That’s it?” Your voice cracked with a note of disbelief, “I don’t even know what this stuff is, baby, and you aren’t even breaking a sweat.” You sat up further if anything trying to clue him in that maybe this wasn’t a good fucking idea.

“If we don’t, what happens?” He says, mirroring your movements and sitting up to face you completely, “You’re out 50,000 credits and we have to sweat this out before morning?” 

Your jaw works as you internally sputter indignantly, clutching at your arms to keep from physically shaking some sense into him. Really? In what outlandish way does this scream safe to him? And how dare-

How dare he be, what?  _ Right?  _

“You know the Countess, don’t you? Would she endanger you and all of these people for pleasure?” 

_ Yes, the fuck she would, fucking sadistic woman.  _ But you resigned still, lowering your hackles. No, Zahida might be a sadist but she does it for the thrill and promises to do it again in the future. Whether you like it or not, you know this woman and what she's capable of. All of this? Was probably a cure for her special brand of boredom, all alone in the Outer Rim. 

Mando was close enough to see your labored breathing, your cheeks flushed as you tried your best to keep the lower half of your body still. He could see your thighs straining, locked up so tightly you were practically vibrating. Din knew you were nervous and itching to turn tail and run, with all of the uncertainties he can practically see your pretty head running rampant with equations and plans to get the hell out of dodge. But maybe this could play out in your favor if he could convince you to lose a little bit of that careful control. 

And you call him a stick in the mud.

“You said it yourself, it's not harmful, right?” even if you are hesitant, it's not like you have 50,000 credits to fork over. 

He was right, nothing about this seemed inherently dangerous or deadly but...you feel like you shouldn’t have to explain why taking unknown drugs is a bad idea. And yet, Mando seemed completely unbothered by any of this. Your eyes flickered to the door, it was locked, you knew that and the room was secure and he made sure of it himself. That was something you could take solace in, something to ground you in the face of all of this.

It's funny, you were more worried about trying to convince him to help you out with all of this, and here he is, just offering himself up. Made you think someone replaced your Mando with someone a lot less shy, and a lot less shameless. 

“It’s...harmless but-” you bite your lip, “I don’t know what this stuff’ll do in high doses- hell, it’s potent enough in small doses, we could lose it completely.” 

“Then we’ll be safe about it,” He insisted, his helmet tilted towards you and he looked like a mirage in front of you. Tempting you into something you wanted to reach out and take for so long but never had the guts to, “I’ve got you, sweet girl.” 

“And you’ve got me.” He finished softly, so tenderly your lungs give out and your head swims. The cool metal of his forehead brushes against yours and you close your eyes at the sensation, like being submerged in a cool spring while everything else is unbearably hot. 

You’d hate to say that's all the convincing you needed, but it's true. You know he meant every word and you wanted him to know you meant it to.  But you can’t concentrate on why, can’t discern why it’s not a good idea. It burns until you can’t remember why you’ve been holding back in the first place.

You could honestly throw the shit out the window and be done with it but maybe, and you hate to say it, Zahida was right about this being a good idea for you. Maybe, you could salvage the night from embarrassment and learn a thing or two about uh...culture or something. Mando’s hands were steadfast and you only want to savor the throbbing need between your legs. He didn’t seem at all upset about the fact you were both exposed to a very powerful agent, in fact, he seems very eager to get his hands on the bowl. He took it from your grasp and dipped his gloved fingers in. 

Even through his gloves, the liquid felt warm, unnaturally so. But something in him nagged him to feel it on his skin, to touch it for himself. The impulse was so strong, he was already halfway through peeling them off and letting them fall uselessly to the bed. The gossamer liquid had his skin tingling upon first contact, warming to his body temperature as he rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Your hand came up to cradle his own, gathering the tinted liquid on your fingers before bringing them to his wrist. 

The...custom with these traditions dates back hundreds and thousands of years, or so you’ve been told and were specific to each lineage who partook. The basic premise remained: participants would paint each other's skin with Thedianhave symbols for luck or love or even family crests, whatever it was to mark them in a way only they could see. The lingering of fingers tracing patterns onto soft, warm skin was painstakingly intimate. You felt like you couldn’t get in enough air. Your thumb met the warm skin of his inner wrist as your fingers closed around his. His head tilted down to watch your thumb as the liquid was traced into his skin. You pictured the patterns on the glossy skin of those in the stadium, their arching shapes, and the herbal scent that doused the skin. It smelt different on his skin though. Your fingers stuttered for a brief moment before beginning again.

But it was not the same sigil painted on the skin of others. If he was confused, he did not voice it and you were thankful. You’re not sure you could have made up an excuse fast enough to cover for the fact you’d just traced your family name into his skin. 

Your fingers left his skin but you could not tear your eyes away from the stain of your name drying into his skin. The heat in your stomach dropped lower and the heat coming from the palms of your hand seemed to only grow hotter as you watched the Mandalorian observe the way the liquid melted into his skin. 

Slowly, his hands moved towards the bowl and methodically dipped his fingers in. The gesture had your cheeks burning obscenely as you openly admired the curve of his hands and the small white scars that littered his fingers. His attention was on you again, something you never want to have to go without, as he hesitantly raised his fingers to tentatively brush against the apple of your cheek. He couldn’t picture the sigil painted on those outside, nor could he replicate the one you drew on his skin before it melted away. Mercifully, your hands came to meet him. Your gentle smile made his head empty as your fingers met the back of his hand and molded to it. 

Slowly, as not to startle him, you began guiding him through the motions. It was slow, dangerously slow as his fingers traced over your forehead and down your cheeks. Painting them a vivid pink where his fingers had touched. The touch lit fire upon your skin and you found yourself leaning into his searing touch just as he found himself eagerly tracing the curve of your nose and the underside of your jaw. His fingers brushed the corner of your lips before stopping, unsure, and careful in their pursuit. You continued to guide him, letting the glossy liquid paint your lips a dusty hue as you breathed out a contented sigh. Emboldened, his fingers traced your top lip softly and all the way to the corners where a small smile was tugging at your lips. 

He felt dizzy and unfocused like he was floating through a dream. He felt warm and hazy down to his very core and it burned on the tips of his fingers. This felt like something he’d dreamed of before, in the waking hours of the morning when all he wanted to do was hold onto blissful sleep where he dreamed of you. It’d felt like the only time he sees you anymore is in his dreams. It felt like he was only floating through jobs, not counting his shots and staying up too late, too far away from you. He liked to think you felt the same, that when you come back around time and time again it wouldn’t be on principle but because you wanted to. You sure made it seem that way, and any more and Din might start to think he actually means something to you. 

Your lips flutter under his touch and all thought leaves his mind all at once and he’s useless to your gravitational pull and cradles the back of your head, unable to tear his gaze away from the plush features of your face. Your gaze is soft and dreamy as you gaze oh-so sweetly at him and his knees go weak. 

You had long since moved your hand from the back of his to grip his wrist, almost involuntarily if only to bring him close and keep him there. The pattern traced on your features slowly absorbed into your skin and already there was a sweet warmth fogging your head and making your eyes heavy. From the tips of your fingers and your glossy lips, you felt warm right down to your core and nothing fed the burn like his fingers curling around the back of your neck as he tugged your closer. 

Din felt unfocused, he wanted to ask what happens next but- oh, is that you that smells so fucking  _ good?  _ It’s your perfume but so, so much more and he feels drunk on it. The wave of searing heat hit his gut and he was massively underprepared for that kind of recoil. 

“Mando? Talk me through this.” You sounded rough, but you wanted to hear him tell you this was okay, “How are you feeling?” You figured it was the guilt but, it hid itself well behind the mounting desire to care for him despite the lust coating your every move. A sliver of you hoped this was more in your head, and that it wasn’t actually as potent as you were feeling. 

He was confident you could feel the heat rolling off of him like the sweat running down his back. His cock was already throbbing under all of his layers, weeping at the head and pulsing up against his trousers. All you had to do was sit still and look pretty, that's it. But he was burning alive, suffocating under the impenetrable layers of beskar and his only source of air was you. 

“It’s... _ hot.”  _ His throat felt raw with how dry it was and his skin prickled with heat under his armor. 

“Yes, very diligent observation.” You were restless, too hot and the pressure of  _ something _ putting pressure on your aching clit was almost too much to handle. Maybe it really is this potent-

“Do better, then.” His eyes followed the curve of your hips unabashedly, voice clipped and too loud ringing around in his helmet. 

You had a remarkably hard time trying to focus on what he was saying when his hand came to lay on your thigh, fingers curling softly against the pillowy flesh. Seemingly to keep you from running off you could imagine. Not that you minded. 

“Uh- It’s like I’m four drinks in,” Maybe he was right, it was really hard to describe. Whatever it was, it was making the filter of your mind dissolve just as fast as four drinks would, “It’s like-  _ mmh _ I’m wet.” There was no way to put it eloquently so you just laid it out. Not that you have a reason to start getting shy now, of all times. 

You heard the short, sharp inhale through the modulator and it's a sound you want to hear always. You especially love to hear it when you’re swallowing him down your throat with his hands deep in your hair. Your mind was carrying you away but Mando’s hand sliding further up your thigh snapped you right out of it. You were a little surprised at how hard it was for you not to chase his hand with your hips, urging him to touch you in the place you needed it most. Your pussy was vibrating under the slight friction of just sitting the way you were and you shook off the urge to shove his hand beneath the waistband of your pants. 

His hand smoothly danced over the top of your thigh until it met the top of your hip and stayed there, rubbing small circles into your hot skin and you want to mewl at the touch but you swallow the desperate sound away. You wanted to tell yourself to keep it together but- what were you worrying about again? Absolutely nothing when he’s found the edge of your tunic and is pushing it up and away to touch the skin underneath. 

Din’s eyes, unabashedly staring at the rise and fall of your chest, were drawn to the pendant that hung heavy and reached the top of your breasts. 

“Do you know what these say?” He asks suddenly and it takes you a second to realize he was talking about the pendants given to you. 

“It’s Thedian,” You say, raising your hand to grasp the one around his neck and turn it over in your palm, “Yours says  _ Receiver _ , or  _ to receive. _ ” 

“Yours looks different.” 

You hum and look down on your own, gently held in his bare palm. It looked so small and shiny against the small white scars that littered his hands. 

“  _ Provider _ .” You supply. You wish you could elaborate but there was nothing to elaborate on when you had no idea what they were for.

The rich sound of a bell echoed loudly all across the city, somewhere close to the building you were in and you jumped to a start. It must have been the bell in the middle of the city but there was no need for it with the sun having already gone down over the dunes to the west. It struck three times before quieting completely. 

“What do they mean?” He let the pendant fall back on your chest. You wished you could have given him a definitive answer but you shook your head. You couldn’t even begin to guess their meaning and part of you doesn’t want to know. But the burning in your bloodstream was more persistent, despite the fact you were dipping into a void of uncharted water. You reached for him, just wrapping your hand around his arm but doing so with so much reverence it made his heart ache with want. 

You take in a shuddering breath as you lean forward, your arms coming up to the back of his neck as you lean your forehead against his to kiss him the only way you can.

“Are- are you sure you want to do this?” You willed your voice to sound certain and strong as your hands dropped down to his, “I don’t want to do this unless you are absolutely sure this is what you want.” If he was being more honest, maybe it would do you some good to try being more honest too. 

“I’ve got you.” You breathe to him. It felt too shallow to tell him he was safe with you because it’s not something proven through speech. You wanted him to know it by your actions, he was safe with you, “ _ I’ve got you.” _ You repeat to him, and you’d spend a millennium convincing him of it.

The words seeped into the hollow of his chest and burrowed itself in his rib cage, sharing space with his racing heart. His throat felt thick with the words fighting to bubble up and over but once they reached his tongue, he found nothing of value compared to the vibrant hue of your affections. It scared him. It terrified him so much to know he was safe with you.

It terrified him to know that something he wanted so badly has made him feel safe enough to want to give you everything he is- 

He says nothing as he pulls you close, the plush of your thigh was warm in his hand as he shifted them over his own and pulled you up into his lap. Gathering you close, threadbare soul and all as he tucked himself into your warmth and made a home there. It all blended with the sharpness of his arousal and it burned brighter in his chest and his mind hazed when you settled down on him, hips dropping and settling against his own with a breathless sigh. That small taste of blinding pleasure spiked through him and he gave chase, his hands bunching in the fabric of your shirt as he ground himself up into you with a high moan. Even the smallest taste of pleasure burned through you until there was nothing left but matching his desperate attempts for some sort of friction. 

Air catches in your throat but your body moves on it’s own, dropping your hips even lower to grind down on his cock desperately. You vaguely acknowledge the fact you were grinding against each other like a couple of fumbling teens in the deep part of your mind that was still coherent but couldn’t bring yourself to care when it feels  _ this good. _

Your breathing is far heavier than it ought to be but the friction felt heavenly, soothing the static burn between your legs while stoking the coil winding itself unbearably tight in your stomach. You barely finished the thought before Mando was pushing his hands up your shirt and moving to peel it off of you. He got it off in record time and moved down to fumble with your belt. There was a tremor in his hands. 

The cool metal of his forehead meets your temple and you can hear his breath that stutters under the modulator. Your belt was thrown away, but you didn’t even register the sound it made when it hit the ground when Mando is pushing past the waistband of your pants to cup your swollen cunt. 

Your whole body jerks at the sensation and you choked on the too-loud moan threatening to spill from your lips as he just holds himself there. His fingers were still wet, still coated with that glistening slick as he cupped your pussy. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding yourself against his hand even if you wanted to. 

The moment his fingers hit your folds, he's locking his arm down over you back and pressing you down into his hand, the heel of his palm putting a delicious pressure on your clit that has you panting. Your pussy drools in his hand, coating his fingers so heavily he grounds out a breathless curse and works to keep you still. 

The moment his fingers move to part your folds have you near tears. Your slick coats his fingers entirely and you are lost to the feather-light touch of him tracing circles over your clit and your fluttering hole. You moan high in your throat and it sounds obnoxious even to you but he only increases the pressure when he uses the pad of his finger to coat your clit with your fluids mixed with the silken liquid. 

It’s so much- it’s  _ too _ much and your thigh shake under the waves of white-hot pleasure and-  _ oh fuck. _

You’re so close. You’re so close and he’s only circled your clit with his finger a total of five times and your body’s already wound itself tighter than steel. 

“Wait,  _ wait wait wait-! _ ” Fuck, you can barely muster a whimper as you grapple at his forearm, “I-I  _ Oh fuck-”  _ You whine at the ceiling, breath ragged but you couldn’t  _ stop. _ Not when it feels this  _ fucking good. _

“Stars, you are so  _ wet. _ ” He murmurs to you, the arm anchoring you to him slackened at your plea but he didn’t stop the soft circles over your clit. Your orgasm rears up sharp and fast and is ready to burn a hole through you, your breaths gasping as you grind down against his hand with little shame. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ fucking stars Mando I-” A desperate sound tears itself from your throat as your pussy spasms and gushes all over his hand, “I’m-  _ Oh god  _ don’t stop, _ don’t stop-” _

White-hot bliss stabs through you and you are writhing in his grasp, half fighting to pull away from the bliss erupting in your veins and half pulling him closer as you cry out as you cum harder than you ever thought possible. You cling to him, nails digging into the duraweave under his armor as white flashes behind your eyes and molten honey sings through your veins. It’s devastating, in every sense of the word. Your lungs seize and you forget how to inhale as you tremor. 

Mando flattens you against his chest, gritting out curses as your pussy gushes on his fingers, 

Every inch of you is aching from stain but- but it’s not stopping.  _ It’s not stopping _ . You feel like your orgasm is lasting forever as wave after wave of painful bliss crashes over you and you can’t do anything but shake and sob your way through it. 

“ _ Fuck, fuck baby- _ ” You whine pathetically as you cling to him, “It’s not-  _ hah-  _ it’s not _ stopping, _ ” You cry at him, blubbering pitifully as your orgasm burns through you leaving nothing but a quivering mess. 

He shushes you sweetly, a drastic contrast to the way his arm tightens over your hips, and his legs spread under you to widen your own.

You sob when he fingers move to rub gently at your clit again, “Give it to me, all of it.” His demand was harsh compared to the soft, tender way he whispered it to you. You jerk away but can’t go far when he locks you down, and all you can do is take how he's pressing soft circles into you clit again and  _ again- _

A second orgasm spikes up hot and sharp without you seeing, taking a hold of your body, and erupting in your veins. You sob your pleasure to the ceiling, your vision white and blurred as your ride out the searing pleasure rocketing through you. You don’t hear yourself begging, pleading for something you didn’t even know but you continued to babble through the aftershocks. 

Din’s fingers never leave your molten hot center, pinching your swollen sensitive clit between his fingers while your hips bore down and slick dripping down your thighs. He coos to you through it all, shushing you gently. Floating back down to yourself, you make out what he’s saying. 

_ I’ve got you. I’ve got you, sweet girl. _

Your mind is tormented as your core burns back to life. A coil winding itself deeper and deeper and the heat doesn’t stop- you don’t want it to stop. 

With as much strength as you can muster, you peel yourself away from him. You don’t get far with his arm of steel not letting you stray and his hand firmly stuck in your pants, but you gaze up at the inky black visor. You see yourself, warped in the reflection but you could hide the absolutely debauched look of bliss on your slack-jawed face. A wave of burning arousal washed over you as you brought your forehead to his, taking in gulps of air. 

You slowly peel his arm away, looking into the visor as you shakily shimmy away. His hand slips free from the waistband of your pants and before glancing down, choking on a groan when you see your slick coating his hand thicky, webbed between his fingers and glistening. Your cunt bottoms out painfully but before you can say anything, he unceremoniously shoves them up the front of his helmet. The most vulgar, erotic sucking noise reaches your ears as he eagerly sucks your juices off his fingers. The wrecked moan that follows his fingers leaving his mouth left you aching and clenching down on nothing. 

The heat- the heat didn’t stop spreading until it had swallowed you whole and left you starving for more.

You drop to your knees, caged in between his thighs to settle down on the floor as you tear away his belt. A dark stain was eye level with you and he could  _ feel _ your hot breath against his twitching cock and it was almost enough to have him spilling in his pants. A strangled moan filled the air and it took a considerable amount of time for Din to realize it came from him. Unabashedly, you stare long enough to start drooling before leaning forward and mouthing at the dark patch staining his pants, feeling the head of his cock jump underneath. You sucked and lapped at his leaking head, watching with delight as the dark spot grew and when his hand tangled itself in your hair with a deep groan as he chased your tongue with his hips. 

You eagerly reach and grasp him hot and heavy in your palm, he was near throbbing and practically purple at the tip. You take pity on him and stroke him in your hand and you wish you could have stopped the way your mouth salivating at the sight of him leaking. You don’t bother reigning yourself in as you lean forward and placing a gentle kiss on the flushed head. His choked moan drowns out your desperate mewl as your cunt bottoms out at the taste.

You lapped at him in a way you could be embarrassed about tomorrow. But you couldn’t find the willpower to care when his cock rested hot and heavy on your tongue. Opening your jaw further, you relish in the choked gasps escaping from under the helm as you pull away to lick at the bead of pre-cum mixing with your spit. 

“ _ Fuck-” _ he whispers harshly, his voice breaking the static harshly as he pants down at you, “It’s- you’re so  _ warm-”  _ his rambling divulged into a string of curses as your swallowed him down. With no small amount of difficulty, he hit the back of your throat and  _ down. _ You nuzzle the soft curls at his navel before pulling back and gasping embarrassingly for air. 

It’s not...clean, by any means. It was sloppy and wet and _furnace hot_ and Din’s brain was about to melt out of his ears. You run your tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock and he throbs violently under the wet, hot trail you left behind to kiss his leaking head. You hardly understand his garbled praise but you hear your name in the sweetest moan and you almost cum on the spot. Your free hand drops between your legs, the heel of your palm pressing sweet relief into your aching cunt.

You swallow him down again and you may not understand him, but you do understand the way his fingers tighten in your hair and how stiff his legs are beside your head. 

“Sweet girl,  _ fuck,”  _ He gasps in air desperately to his burning lungs, “M’gonna cum, _ wait-!”  _

You pulled off his cock wetly, a trail of spit from the head of his cock to your swollen lips, “ _ Good,  _ good baby.” You cooed to him before giving him and slow, long suck to his weeping head. 

He groans your name, ending in a high whimper, “ _ Mmhm _ wait, wait I don’t want t’cum yet-” 

“ _ Shhh _ , yes you will,” You pull off his cock again to murmur against his shaft, “You are going to cum in my mouth.” The vulgarity of your words dripped off your tongue and had him choking on a high whine, hips bucking into the hot cavern of your mouth. 

“You’ll want more, baby, I promise.” Your looking up at him with those weepy eyes, and all of a sudden his orgasm spikes up sharp and shoots up his spine. 

The first spurt hits your tongue and you greedily gulp it down, sucking hard and letting it all pool on your tongue. His moans are mixed with gasps of your name and his fingers are steel woven in your hair. You slacken your jaw and let him thrust in your hot throat, sucking every last drop from him. 

His chest heaved and glittered around the room, helmet tilted down to watch you pop wetly off his cock. You swallow every last drop and lick your lips, gazing sweetly up at him from in between his legs. His curls were damp with your spittle and his cum before you wrap your lips around him and licking him clean. You weren’t completely shocked to see he was still hard, you were surprised to see him throbbing on your tongue still harder than the beskar he wore. 

The room swayed as you looked up at him and for a blissful moment the burning dulled. It was odd, you’d never seen or felt anything like it before, and if you’re lucky, you’ll never have to feel it again- 

It takes a moment to register Mando saying your name, and you knew you weren’t in the clear yet because of his low voice, scraping through the modulator had your hand pressing up into your cunt. 

“You okay?” You don’t recognize your own voice with how raspy it is, “That wasn’t too much, was it?” 

He shakes his head, slowly then more decidedly, “No, that was-” he stopped and took in a shaky breath, but he didn’t have to say anything else because you were thinking the same thing.

“Strong shit, huh?” 

He huffed a laugh, dry but warm, and nodded in agreement, “Yeah, yeah it’s just,” He paused before moving his hands to his vambrace, but not before untangling them from your hair and smoothing it away from your face, “Really fucking  _ hot.”  _

You moved with him, pulling away the cowl from his neck while he set aside his vambrace to work on a pauldron, “Being in the middle of the desert doesn’t make it any better.” You agree, working on the latches to release his chest plate. 

You pulled it away before standing, your knees protesting violently, and setting it down on the table. The rest followed until they were neatly stacked on the table and he was left in his threadbare under clothes. He’d pushed his sleeves up, revealing tan skin littered with scars. His fingers brushed against the lip of his helmet and you could hear the wheels turning in his head from across the room. 

“Mando?” You called softly, feeling a little ridiculous being this cautious with him as you stood with your pants undone and shirt half unbuttoned. It did get his attention though and he sighed, cursing those puppy dog eyes you didn’t even know you had. 

“I-” he didn’t know how to say what he was feeling but the burning was so much deeper than he thought possible.

He cleared his throat lightly, “Do you think- Can we uh,” He tried to word it not like a demand but there was nothing he wanted more than to be out from his sweltering bucket. You’ve blinded yourself for him before, often in fact but that was in the comfort of your ship and his. Where your security measures were in place and it was safe. Sure the doors were locked but, this wasn’t safe territory. But, he does have you. You, face heated and chest heaving as you looked at him with such devotion it scared him. There’s not much you do that doesn’t scare him. But, he could get used to it. 

“Are you comfortable wearing a blindfold? Here?” 

You nod immediately, “Of course,” you assure him and watch his shoulders relax. You smile sweetly before glancing around the room. There wasn’t much around to use, and if push comes to shove you could always use your shirt. It was a sacrifice you were willing to make. You shuffle back to him, balling your shirt up in your hands, you even mused about tearing the bedsheet.    
  


“Here,” You tossed him your shirt, taking a half glance at the bowl sitting on the bedside table, “You do the honors.” Huh, it has a drawer too.

“Not anywhere too obvious!” You bark sternly, your fingers hooking around the knob of the drawer and pulling it open, “I  _ do _ have to wear it tomorrow while I’m ripping Zahida a new-” Your brows furrow and the words die on your lips. 

You did a double-take in the open drawer. A wooden box sat inside, rather unassuming and plain looking but there were no other belongings in this room or anything at all to suggest this belonged to someone.

Din had risen to peek in the drawer with you, bushing your side, “Can you open it?” 

You nearly rip it out of the drawer and toss it on the bed. It’s contents rolled around inside its hollow belly. The wood was dark and the box was small, and upon turning it around you see an ornate lock. One that you’ve never seen the likes of before.

You turn it over a few more times in your hands, listening to its contents roll around inside, “The hell is this?” 

Well, you tried to force it open first and when that didn’t work you were looking for a place to bash it open when it was taken away from your impending wrath. Mando seemed to examine the lock, bringing it up to eye level. The lock was an odd shape, no jagged openings to suggest any normal key, only a smooth oval-shaped opening. 

“Lemme- lemme just break it open,” You're on your tip-toes looking over his shoulder as you peer up at him, gaze shifting between his visor and the box. 

A retort was on the tip of his tongue when his gaze dropped to the shiny pendant resting heavily between your breasts. Well, it was definitely your tits that caught his attention first but, the long oval-shaped amulet looked more familiar as his gooey brain tried it’s best to fill in the blanks.

He reached down to his own hanging on his chest and lifted it to the lock, it looked like it might fit. You quickly caught up to his train of thought and watched as he tried to guide it into the lock. The first few centimeters seemed promising but it just- stopped when it reached the grooves of the engraved letters. 

You huffed in disappointment before bringing up your own pendant to the lock, “Here, try mine.” You had little hope it would work if he didn’t but it was worth a shot before forcefully busting it open. 

But to your mutual surprise, it slid all the way home, hitting the end of the lock snugly. There was a slight pause before Mando went ahead and turned the lock, hearing it click open and watching as the lid popped open. 

You wasted little time throwing the lid open and-

Your jaw snapped shut loudly and- what the ever-loving fuck is  _ that? _

That was a bold-faced lie, you know it's a dildo but  _ what? _

Inside the box sat a clear, wonderfully made, dildo. Which was attached to a mess of soft, brown leather straps. A strap-on. It was  _ definitely  _ a strap-on. 

You made a rather strangled noise in the back of your throat when you tried to clear it. Not exactly what you expected, then again this whole mess wasn’t what you expected.. You glanced at the pendant still sticking out of the lock and swallowed hard. 

_ Provider. _ It had read _ Provider _ as in- you. You were the  _ Provider. _

“U-uh well,” You finally cleared your throat, “Zahida always did have a shitty sense of humor.” 

Mando made a little choked noise but said nothing else as he quite literally tossed the box on the bed. Your pendant falls loose and the straps in the box spill over the side, displaying the small silver buckles proudly as they clink gently together. 

Din stared at it, longer than he should have but it forcefully tattooed itself behind his eyelids. He felt horrified that a sex toy had him feeling this panicked. It was silicon for fucks sake, not a gun. 

“Hey,  _ hey,”  _ You bounced into his line of sight, your hands cradling his arms as you looked up at him, “This- this is strange and unexpected but uh-” You were doing damage control, or trying to anyway when he doesn’t say anything else. He must be uncomfortable, panicky even and you wanted to soothe his worries. Or yours, you couldn’t tell. 

You...you don’t want to lie and say you’ve never thought about it, fucking him. But it was light-years away if it ever happened, you’ve never even vaguely mentioned it or talked about it in any capacity. Didn’t stop you from thinking about it though. But here it was, being handed to you so openly on a silver platter. Or box, in this case. 

Some part of you hoped the meaning would fly right over his head without any consequence. But you should have known by the way he stiffened and curled in on himself that this wasn’t the case. 

“This is probably just an uh-” Just what? A poorly disguised attempt to make your companion wildly uncomfortable? “Whatever it is, it doesn’t mean shit and-” 

“Is that what it means?  _ Provider _ ?” He spoke gravely and your jaw snaps shut, “That you use this on-” he swallowed hard as he trailed off, not too sure about how he wanted to end that statement so he said nothing at all. 

Oh sweet stars above, how are you going to talk your way out of  _ this?  _ You stood in front of him, tits out and pants hanging loosely off your hips and you didn’t have a damn clue what to do. The dildo glittered in the warm light, mocking your spinelessness. 

Trying to make yourself sound as confident as you could as your gaze skitters around the room, “We don’t have to do a damn thing with it, not if we don’t want to-” 

“Do you want to?” 

Your breath catches loudly and you finally rest your incredulous gaze back on him, “H-huh?” 

“Do _ you  _ want to?” He asks again, this time crowding your space as he takes half a step towards you. His tone was indecipherable and your brows knit together as you study him. You weren’t expecting any semblance of forwardness from him so it took you a considerably long time to try and wrap your head around what he was asking.

“What? Mando I-” Why is he asking  _ you _ that? “We by no means  _ have _ to do anything. B-besides, this choice would belong to you and you alone.” You say firmly. In no way should he consider your opinion over his own in this situation, The fact he was even  _ asking _ was-

Why _ was _ he asking? 

You study him hard. He barely even looks like he’s breathing, stone still and stiff as his helmet is tilted down at you. His voice was strained and low, you could see the cords in his neck straining and you could only guess how hard he was clenching his jaw. 

“Do you want to?” You ask, softly and carefully. 

He said nothing for a moment, but his shoulder inch up to his ears, and his hands closed into fists at his side. 

“I-I...don’t know.” He says after a long moment of silence. 

A couple of things happened at that moment: Your brain short-circuits and you can’t hear anything over the rush of blood in your ears. Second, your cunt  _ drools _ at the mere thought. Part of you wants to deny that any of this is actually happening. Your eyes drop to the bowl, maybe you  _ were _ dosed with something a lot more serious than you thought. Still, even if you were somehow completely wrong about this, you were going to jump the opportunity with all you had. 

You nod slowly, then more convincingly, “O-okay, okay,” You exhale hard, your mind already running through a mental checklist. You’ll need more than this, lube comes to mind-

“You don’t want to.” He sounds absolutely distraught, taking your pause to mean the worst. You can hear the embarrassment in his voice before you can reassure him, “I don’t know why I said that-” 

“No! No, wait, I-I want to.” You crowd him, reaching out and up to cradle his helmet, “I want to, I just- I want to make this  _ good _ for you.” You breathe to him, trying to reassure him in any way you could think of but the words are broken and clumsy clawing up your throat, your hands are starting to shake.

“You...do?” 

“Yes, for fucks sake,  _ yes.”  _ You insisted, you hoped you were catching his gaze under the helm, “I just- I really want to do this  _ right _ a-and this... isn’t exactly the way I was planning on introducing the idea.” You admitted sheepishly. 

“You’ve thought about it?” his voice is tight, but you feel him relaxing in your grasp. 

You nod vigorously, not trusting your words to come out as they should. 

“Are you sure though?” Your palms were sweaty and your body was feverish, but the last thing you want is for this to be because of some lust induced haze, “Because if this is something you’ve never thought about before now- I-I can’t do this unless you are absolutely sure this is something you want.” 

“Because if it is…” you continue, “I promise I will make it so, so fucking  _ good _ for you.” You rasped, unable to keep the want out of your voice.

Din’s words fail him, slack-jawed under the helm as you make eye contact with him behind the visor. Oh, he  _ knows _ you would. You always have. He nodded vigorously in agreement. There’s not much he doesn’t trust you with, this included. This was uncharted territory for him, only explored when all he had was his hands to please him when the adrenaline just wouldn’t fizzle out. When nothing else worked to ease the blood rushing in his head. When you were too far away. 

He didn’t want you to ever find out, truthfully. It was something he wanted to hide away forever and keep locked up tightly. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have thought twice about shutting things down. But it’s you. It always had been. 

It was never something he had the opportunity to just...take. He didn’t have to work up the nerve to ask, or face any shameful rejection. You wanted this too. 

“I need more than that, sunshine, especially if we use this,” You grab your balled-up shirt off the bed and wave it around, “I need something more verbal, now and anytime you are unsure,” you say softly. 

“I want this.” The words come out fast, almost getting caught in his throat. Your smile was worth any embarrassment he might have felt about any of this.

Your smile bloomed on your cheeks as your fingers found the hem of your shirt, a spot on the back, and ripped. It was bigger than you wanted but you hardly noticed when the pinnacle of your universe was finally letting you take care of him as you’ve always dreamed about. 

You fold the strip a few times before lifting it to him to inspect, making sure the light fabric couldn’t be seen through. It seemingly passed the test when he moved to put it over your eyes. 

You accepted it willingly, “Get undressed for me,” You say as he ties the cloth around your head with a snug knot in the back, “Please.” You add, an afterthought as a lopsided grin tugged at your lips and you were in darkness. The light bleeds through the fabric, dimly but cast everything in a gauzy glow, impenetrable to see through. 

You heard him huff through the modulator but his hands began to shed you of your pants, pushing them down your hips before working on his own. You gauged how far the bed was before shuffling over and sitting and waiting. You brushed against the box lying on the bed, feeling the soft leather of the straps spilling out over the sides. That was going to be a bitch to get on.

“Bring the bowl over, too.” 

You heard the small click of the release button and the whoosh of air that quietly followed. You feel the bed dip beside you, your hand was grabbed and led across the bed to where he put the bowl down. You brought his palm to your lips and kissed it in thanks. 

“You tell me to stop, anytime you need.” You say, fingers searching their way around every inch of naked skin you could reach. Up his arms, down his side and he let out the sweetest sigh. 

“I will.” He promised and it made you feel better to hear him say it, steadily. Pressing back he slants his mouth over your own with a small sigh. Kissing the Mandalorian was nothing short of breathtaking every time, each time better than the last and it was hardly ever a short event. That’s the price he pays for being stuck under that helmet, barred from your affections. It’s not like you _ don’t _ kiss him, you kiss every part of him you can reach but it's so different when you actually get to  _ kiss him. _ You’ve never had someone match your desperation in a kiss like he does, and it takes you breath away every time. Your hands cup his jaw, running your thumbs over the hallows of his cheeks and up to his temples. 

He sighs into your mouth, breathing you in as he licks into your mouth languidly. It was slow and methodical and fucking breathtaking as you cling to each other. You doubt the aphrodisiac running through your veins had anything to do with how desperately you wanted to pull him even closer and sink down on his cock. Well, maybe a little.

You reached for the bowl beside you, pulling in within comfortable reaching distance before dipping your fingers in it. It felt cold, much colder than it should be before the tingling began to dance on your fingertips. You pull away and bring your hands together, warming the liquid to your body temperature before touching him. He doesn’t stray far, nuzzling your temple and pressing soft kisses against your cheeks and the corner of your mouth. 

Your hands glistened in the light, the glossy nectar pooling in the fine lines of your hands and almost dripped off your fingers. Your drenched fingers brush against the heated skin of his chest, you feel it move with his sharp inhale at your touch and deflate again with his exhale. It burned and tingles in your wake, trails of iridescent solution shimmered on him as it was absorbed quickly. Your lips brush against his collarbone and trail up the side of his neck, your teeth nibbling little purple marks into his skin with wet kisses to ease the discomfort. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and he knows you can feel it near beating out of his chest.

  
  


Din didn’t realize the effects of the first application faded over time until everything became hazy and soft again. The warm, dying light paints you with a halo when you pull away and massage the liquid into his skin. He felt flush and feverish, almost like he was floating in a dream. Every touch sparked something deep inside him burned through his veins like wildfire. 

  
  


Your hands were still slick when they reached down to his cock, still hard and swollen even after his orgasm. He sucked in a breath when you stroked him, the friction of his cock in your hand making a wet squelching sound that burned his ears. The effect was near immediate, his chest heaving as he moaned. Every stroke was more intense than the last and it was so  _ warm. _

You shuffle away before bending down, your ass in the air as you take his head in your mouth again. His wreaked groan was almost a sob when you took him into your mouth again, stroking what didn’t fit easily. You continued your lavish attention on the head of his cock while pushing him to lie back. His head fell against the pillows behind him with a deep mean when you took him down your throat. Honestly, the stuff didn’t taste  _ horrible,  _ it left your tongue kind of tingly. 

  
  


You nuzzled yourself between his legs, wrapping your free hand around the meat of his thigh and over his hip. You didn’t stop your attention to his cock when you reached for the bowl again. Generously coating your fingers in the liquid, you run them teasingly over his balls and listening to his breath catch above you. You carefully traced them and suckled on them before moving further, down to the swell of his ass. 

The pad of your finger bushes over that tight ring of muscle, wetting it before petting gentle circles on it. His breath stutters and you stop. 

“You okay, baby?” You drawl from below him, stopping your movement, and just hold the pad of your thumb over the puckered hole. 

Din breathed out hard through his nose, “Yeah,” he choked, “Keep going.” Your hum reverberates in his chest and floods it with warmth. He feels the heat rise to his cheeks but his cock throbs at the pet name, you say it so often he’s starting to believe that's his moniker now. He just shouldn’t like it this much. 

You re-slick your fingers before brushing over the hole again, this time with a normal amount of pressure, and circling it gently before taking his cock back in your mouth. His hissed garbled curses mix with your name beautifully and he’s floating. You don’t make any moves to push your finger inside or add any real pressure at all, only letting him get used to the sensation of someone touching him here. 

It’s an odd sensation that bleeds into a warm hum of arousal as he relaxes his stiff muscles and melts into the bed, his head swimming at the delicious pressure. You lick under the head of his cock between sucking him down your throat.

You pull your head away and kiss down his length, over his balls as you bend down. You open your mouth and spit, your saliva mixed with his precum over his puckered hole and feel it hit its target and over your thumb. And _ stars _ , the way he keens for you is sinful. His choked inhale cut through your appreciative hum as you run your thumb through it and rub up and down before paying attention to the slight give his hole give you when you run your finger over it. 

You add the slightest bit of pressure before backing off, again and again. Just putting enough pressure for him to give a little and then backing away. Your free hand jerked him, slowly and firmly as his hands found your shoulder and slid up into your hair. 

You turn your head and kiss his palm when it finds your face and you can feel his eyes on you. You looked up at him, blind but giving him the sweetest little smile as the very tip of your thumb breaches the tight ring of muscle. 

You listen for his breath hitching, stroking his cock faster as you push in a few more centimeters. A whoosh of air leaves his lungs and you don’t force any more, “How’s it feel?” 

His jaw creaks as he opens his mouth and his throat is dry, “It’s uh-” He croaked and quickly clears his throat, “weird.” 

“Tell me when to stop.” You say, licking the head of his cock as you push your finger in until you reach your first knuckle, then to the second. You pause then, feeling up against his walls with the pad of your finger. The moan that leaves his mouth is a lot louder than he meant it to be, feeling like the pressure of being stretched like this in his head and down to his toes. 

With the liquid and your spit mixing being pushed into his hole, the rest of your finger slid in all the way with ease. You paused and let it sit inside him, leaning down to run your tongue over where your finger is penetrating him, letting your drool pool above your finger and around his hole. 

You pulled it back until only the tip of your finger was inside, and pushed it back in with a satisfying squelch. Din’s lower body felt like it was on fire and swollen, bright spots flashing before his eyes before forcing himself to look back down at you. Your mouth hung open a bit, giving him the perfect view of your wet mouth and pink tongue. Your breasts pushed together enticingly as he watched your arm retreat then stroke back into him. It punches the air out of his lungs but he blooms for you, pushing your finger a bit deeper and listening to his high moan and the wet sound of him sucking your finger back in. 

It moved in and out of him easily as he relaxed around it, the odd discomfort melting away into a sweet pleasure. Your middle finger worked inside to join the first after being coated in the sweet bowl of liquid lying neglected next to you. 

You found yourself wishing, for the first time since sleeping with the Mandalorian, that you could see him. You so desperately wanted to watch your fingers disappear in and out of him and how his face looked screwed up in pleasure beneath you. The thought fluttered away at the gut-punched moan he makes when two of your fingers fit snugly inside him. 

“Talk to me,” Your tongue is hot along the seam of him around your fingers, “walk me through how you’re doing.” 

“G- _ good.” _ he grits huskily, “It feels good.” He ended in a high whine when you plunged your fingers back into him at his words. It sends sparks up his spine and he  _ pushes _ himself down against your fingers. 

Your jaw hangs open when you feel him take your fingers even deeper, your knuckles pushing into the plush of his ass. You rub around his walls, stretching slowly and methodically as you lather your ring finger. It pushes in alongside the others and Din’s iron grip on the sheets causes the material to complain under his hands. 

He feels so  _ full _ . Even that melted beautifully with the blooming pleasure opening him up from the inside. 

You place more slick on his hole with your other hand as your being to move three fingers out of him. 

Din’s vision flashes white as you punch the breath right out of his lungs. He’s panting and trying not to thrash under your grip because it was just  _ so much-! _

Your name drips from his lips so sweetly, in babbling moans and breathless gasps as you snap your wrist in and out of him and you just can’t stay so far away from him anymore. You sit up straight, crowding his hips and laying his thighs over yours. Your fingers stay buried in him, carrying on their unhurried pace in and out of him as you hovered above him. You push his thighs up when reaching out to him, brushing away his curls that you adore out of his face and press wet, sloppy kisses down his neck. 

“How does it feel, pretty boy?” You murmur against his neck after sucking a purple mark into it, “Tell me how it feels.” His moans sound so sweet, as they always do but he just sounds so  _ wrecked _ for you and you can’t take it. You swallow his eager little gasps when your lips slant over his. He finds the strength to unclench his fingers from the sheets, slapping against your bicep and your side as he clings to you. 

The kiss was messy and had a few teeth but he only pressed you into his chest harder. 

“Feels s’good,” he rushed out between kisses, “ _ shit _ oh shit-” 

He mumbled something after but it was garbled and you couldn’t make it out, “Hm?” 

“ _ M-ore..” _

You pull away, your pussy brushing against the sheet below and you could help but grind on it, “Tell me again.” 

He keened under your demand, “More _ \- please.” _ His tone was pleading as he sat upon his elbows, reaching for you and thighs tightening around your middle. 

Your moan had his cock bouncing against his stomach and clenching down on your fingers. You couldn’t fight it when he pulled you down to slam his lips against yours and rut against your fingers. 

You pull away from his searching lips, you murmur low to him, “Help- help me put it on.” 

You didn’t let him move until you pulled your fingers out of his sopping hole but when you did, his hands shot right to the box as he sat up. His lust addled brain figured out the straps with relative ease and helped you into it, pulling it around your hips and up your waist a bit. The other straps attached around your thighs, the pillowy flesh splitting over the top sinfully as he gaped. The room felt like it was spinning and you were the only still point, blanketing over him and pressing kiss after kiss into his flushed skin. 

The straps were snug and unmoving, even with the clear toy sitting heavy in front of you. You felt its weight in your hand as you gathered him closer, your legs cradling his hips.

You felt around for the bowl and cupped your hands to pour the slick over the clear toy, moving your hand up and down it to spread it all over the toy. The slick sound of your hand moving up and down the length was loud over your panting and Din couldn’t stop watching the way it spilled over your knuckles and down to drench the leather. Before he could really think about it, he’s reaching down to the bowl and smearing its contents over your skin, your thigh being the closest he could reach. 

You lean into his touch, the toy pushing between his slick cheeks and resting between them. It was cold when you first slathered it in the pink liquid but now it was warm, warmer than room temperature as you slid it against him. Your fingers push the curved head down until it catches, but don’t make a move to ease it in. Upon your knees, you press a kiss to his temple as you reach down to his cock. 

“Stroke your cock for me, pretty baby.” You coo in his ear, feeling his thighs quiver in your lap as he replaced your hand with his own. 

You slowly push in, only enough to barely breach the tight muscle. You waited until his breathing was back to normal before inching in a little more until the whole head rested inside. Din threw his head back onto the pillows with a strangled cry, his fingers digging in the plush of your thigh. 

You felt it when he relaxed and let you open him up, his hole fluttering around the toy as he took it deeper and  _ deeper- _

“W- _ wait.” _ and you did, stilling your hips as you listened to him pant, thighs shaking.

You could still hear the slick sound of him pumping his cock as you held on steadily to his hips. You gathered more of the substance on your fingers and spread it on the rest of the toy and lathering up where his hole was stretched around the toy. 

“Oh, stars- you are doing so good.” You purr down at him, smiling at the way he tightens his grip on your leg and his strokes become faster. 

“Does that feel good? Hm?” You ask, running your thumb over his furrowed brow and down to his gaping mouth. He sucks your thumb into your mouth and your cunt just about bottoms out. 

You feel him nod, his tongue swirling around your thumb and sucking hard, “Y-esth” 

“That’s my boy.” You inched your hips away before pushing the toy back in, shallowly and a little deeper every time. His cries got louder and louder with each stroke of your hips, his own baring down as he took another inch. Each moan was punched out of him in time with the swing of your hips and soon, your hips slapped against his ass. 

You sat fully seated in him and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. His whole body shook with overstimulation as he sobbed. His hands slapped at the bedding, fisting it desperately and fighting between squirming away from the pleasure that was just  _ too fucking much _ or greedily drinking everything you had to give him. Din didn’t realize he was moving until your hand seized his wrist and you lurch forward to soothe him, settling deeper inside him as you blanketed over him. 

“ _ Shh, _ enough,” You scold him, your sickly sweet tone had pleasure ripping up his spine, “Stay still for me, you’ll get what you need.” 

It took more control than he would have liked to try and relax again, his muscles were wound so fucking tightly he felt like he couldn’t breathe right. Your kisses burned as you brought his hands to your lips, buried deep inside him, and not moving until he melted back into the bed. 

He shifted his hips, then again when you refused to move. You seemed so set on taking your time but he needed  _ something- _

“Act up. See how far it gets you.” 

“Then  _ move _ -”

Your hand closed around his windpipe, cutting off his whine with an adorably loud choke. He stilled immediately and you take the opportunity to pull out and slam back in. 

Your hand comes down hard across his thigh, “Hm?” You pull out, “Use your words.” 

His cry was hoarse and raw but oh-so wrecked already, your fingers flexing against the cords of his neck as you pressed harder. He throbbed against your stomach, a high moan escaping his restricted airways. 

“ _ P-lease,” _ Stars, maybe if his head wasn’t so empty he would have been embarrassed about how whiney that sounded but to you, it was pure music. 

You set a brutal pace. You are a generous lover you like to think, if he wanted you to move you’d give him exactly what he wanted. Only the best for someone who sounded so sweet crying out for you.

The pressure from your fingers curling around the thick cords of his neck had his head warm and fuzzy, the pleasure blinding and celestial as it burned through him. It was so much- _ it was too much-! _

“Oh honey,” you coo in his ear, you thumbs coming up to collect the hot tears trailing down his face as he sobbed his pleasure, “is it too much, baby? Does it feel good?”

Pressing light kisses against the heated skin of his shoulder as you turn him over onto his back for you. Relishing in how much louder his moans and cries are now that they aren’t muffled by the mattress you’ve pummeled him against.

The burning turned into something delicious with each fatal swing of your hips. But you cruelly slowed your pace, Din whined high in his throat at the lack of fiction as you slowed to a stop deep inside him. You ignored his muffled groan of disappointment to reach over to the slowly diminished bowl of liquid. You bring in over him and slowly pour a puddle in your hands before smearing it all over the toy you slowly eased out of him. It leaked and glittered on the translucent toy as you eased it back inside him, slowly and carefully. 

The glossy liquid oozed over the study harness and down to you aching cunt. It stuck to your throbbing clit and accumulated there. You had precious seconds before pleasure bloomed from the searing liquid and your pussy buzzed and drooled down your thighs. Your whimper melts into a moan as you rut against the small delicious friction that had you right on the edge already.

You were fully seated inside him when it hit him, the bottom half of him white with blinding pleasure as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His hands searched for you and you were yanked close, his lips slanting over your own as he moaned in your mouth. 

“Please,  _ come on baby,  _ I can take it,” he  _ whines _ when your hands claw at his hips, lips trailing up his spine, “I can take it- just  _ fuck,  _ harder.” His voice was high and melted into a sinful moan. 

Your hips lurched forward and you gathered as much of him as you can into your arms, praise spilling from your lips as you feel the toy sinking in and out of him with a wet trail connecting the two of you. You dig your heels into the bed and put your back into the thrusts and relish in the high moan that leaves his mouth. 

“There you go, just like that,” Praise flooded out of your mouth as you pull your hips away. Only to slam right back in, bending over his body to grip his shoulder and wrap a hand around his neck, “so fucking good for me.” 

His broken gasp was punched out of him as you push into him again, each moan spurring you on until you were panting along with him. In your blindness, you feel him shiver and keen under you each time your hips meet the plush on his ass. 

It felt like a dream, floating in bliss until it turned white-hot and molten and his gasp was wrecked as his back arched under you. His cock slapped against his stomach and he clenched his jaw, feeling so wonderfully  _ full _ . 

Your thrusts were rhythmic and calculated, but merciless as you pounded into him without reprieve and Din manages to think for a clear second about how fucked he might be without you needing any sort of refractory period. 

It was the last thought that melted into nothing when your hips ground themselves against him, shredding up against pure nirvana inside him. 

His orgasm burns through him before he can so much as shout, painting his chest with ropes of cum as his mind becomes terribly blank. But you don’t stop. You slow enough to hold him in place, before resuming your brutal pace, the pleasure crashing over him like he didn’t just cum. Blissful cries and horse moans bounce off the walls loudly and it takes a moment to realize they are coming from him

“There you go, that's my boy.” You didn’t slow your pace, even as you gathered his shakily limbs the best you could to hold him as you drove your hips home. 

To say Din was thankful for the blindfold over your eyes would be an understatement. Because the amount of drool attached to the sheets below him would be embarrassing if he could pull himself together enough to form a coherent thought. But every time your thrust hit something devastating inside him and it took so much to even take in air to his lungs. 

Everything felt weak, he didn’t fight your grip of his thigh and hip to keep him in place. It was rough and floating somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped you’d leave bruises. You were no doubt capable of it and the thought alone had his still hard cock throbbing as you bounced him on the toy. Each shredding thrust carried him higher and higher and each little gut-punched moan has you drilling into him harder. 

Every thrust shoves him further up the bed as your hips slap against his ass, he hears himself slur together meaningless grunts and  _ stars _ it shouldn’t feel this good. 

“Thought about you-  _ ha,”  _ His words are garbled, mixing with the moans spilling from his mouth, “Thought about  _ this,  _ fuck,  _ fuck, fuck, fuck-”  _

The pleasure that snaps up your spine at his words has obscenities tumbling from your lips. Stars, you shouldn’t go harder, faster than you already are. But it seems so cruel not to, when with each savage thrust he whimpers so sweetly for you. 

You are hardly aware you’re digging your hands into the plush of his thighs and lifting them, using your weight to push _ down  _ inside him. His cries are punched from his lungs until they are soundless, the fatal downswing of your hips only enough to bring him gasping back to life again.

Stars explode behind his eyes, back arching off the sweat damp sheets as his orgasm erupts in his veins. And it just kept  _ burning  _ through him, feeling like it was never going to end.

_ It’s not stopping _ , his one coherent thought bubbles to the front of his mind. He knows he’s shooting blanks at this point but his eyes are rolling back and he’s floating further into bliss. And he  _ didn’t want it to stop. _

His nails dug savagely into the flesh of your arms and anywhere else he could reach, clawing to pull you closer to him in any way he could manage. You never faltered, swinging your hips in a steady  _ bam, bam, bam. _ He’s going to black out, he can’t breathe but he’s repeating your name like a desperate prayer. You answer his pleas, cooing about how good he was for you and how good he  _ felt _ under you. The praise was overwhelming but you couldn’t stop the words once they bubbled to the surface. 

“So- so  _ fucking  _ good to me,” Your words are broken and wrecked as you plunge in and out of him, “j-just  _ one more, fuck  _ pretty boy, G-give me  _ one more,” _

You could feel the hazy cloud being pulled over your as white-hot pleasure bloomed in your veins, the soft leather pad rubbing deliciously right above your buzzing clit. The friction, although slight, was enough for you to give chase and grind down on him. Your breathless moan carried in the small room and Din managed to focus his eyes on you again. 

You panted above him, sweat-slick strands of hair stuck to the sides of your neck and your brows furrowed above the blindfold. He knows he’s never seen something so close to heaven than you are right now, never felt something quite as reverent like the way your hands grab at him.

Din wets his hands again, cupping your face to bring you down to him as your hips piston in and out of him. The liquid marked you and your body grew hotter, all at once before the angle had your clit rubbing wetly against the leather. 

His mouth swallows your cries and replaces them with his own as your hips slam against his ass, the skin damp with the amorous liquid that sank into your skin like a balm. 

You don’t even realize you’re on the edge until it just about steamrolls over you with gut-punching ferocity. Your whine is urgent as you ball your hands in the sheets below you, your movements jerky as it snaps. 

“Oh shit,  _ oh shit shit a-ah,”  _ Your hands hit the skin of his arm with a slap, “Fu-ck  _ Mando.”  _

“Y-yeah? Oh,  _ my girl _ , are you-?” 

Your orgasm crashes over you and you are knocked forward, half curling in on yourself as your vision goes white behind your eyelids. It was white-hot and searing as it burned through you, your toes curling so hard you lose feeling. Your thrusts abruptly stutter to a stop as you shudder above him, the pulsing in your cunt was too much. 

You don’t get far when he’s holding your biceps with an iron grip, holding you still as his legs lock around your waist. You can’t pull away and you can move forward either, just forced to ride out the waves of pleasure crashing over you. 

“Y-es, make it  _ fucking good, _ ” he doesn’t let you go when you shake against his grip, your mouth hanging open so all of your pretty little noises were all for him to enjoy. 

Your tremors melted into slowly rolling your hips against his, trying to ride it out as your limbs continued to weakly shake but you were determined. He let you, keeping his legs around your hips but only loosely until you were snapping your hips into him again.

The amorous agent in your veins was like a shot of adrenaline so deadly you didn’t want to stop- couldn’t stop, even after your release left you near boneless. His groans only fuel the lust building back up in you from square one. 

The noises he makes are tormenting you, daring you to go a little faster and a little harder just to hear more of those pretty noises he makes. You hammer into him a total of five more times before he’s locking up beneath you, breath hitching loudly. 

“ _ Shit _ , no, no _ , no, ag-ain- _ ” The pleasure  _ hurt _ , painful as he came with a strangled groan. It was ripping through him, legs kicking out uselessly as he tried to fight against nothing. Fuck,  _ fuck _ , he was going to pass out. 

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he takes in a shuddering breath, spots dancing in his vision. 

You slow, only rocking shallowly in and out of him as he clings to whatever part of you he could reach. You smoothed his hair away from his face, soothing the tremors in his limbs as he takes in big gulps of air to his burning lungs. 

The moment he moved away, overstimulated and panting, you pulled the toy out of him. Slowly and gently as possible, he grunted when it finally left his body with a wet pop. He could feel the wet puddle that formed under him but he was floating. He cracked open his eyes, not even aware he’d shut them, and was rewarded with the sight of you shaking off the harness blindly. 

Your limbs were shaking like leaves, and your mouth was getting dryer and dryer the more you panted. You silently pressed forward, until your forehead rested against his own. He tremored, breathing heavily between gasping sobs. 

“You okay? That wasn’t too much was it?” Your hands ran gently up his legs and to his sides where you pressed close to him, free of the leather harness by the time you reached up to cup his face. 

“It was-,” he croaked, his throat was dry and made his voice crack, “ _ good.” _

You huff out a laugh, resting your forehead against his temple, “Good? Should I put it back on?” You tease, a breathless laugh bubbling in your throat, 

“ _ No _ , no it- it was,” He was quick to catch your hand and bring you down beside him. You showed mercy and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was good, fantastic even but his brain couldn’t think of anything better to say. 

“I know,” You say softly, “You did so well.” The praise warmed him to his very core and he pulled you onto his chest, wanting to feel the weight of you pressed on top of him. His fingers ghosted along the fine curve of your body and then back up again to straighten out the bunched edges of the blindfold, making sure it lies flat against your head comfortably. The rough edges of the torn cloth tangle with your hair and brush against your shoulders and your sleepy smile inspired the soft burn to swell in his core. 

“How much is left?” you felt boneless as you laid on top of him, sweat drying and cooling your heated skin.

His hands were wet the next time he brushed them over your body. You sigh into the feeling, an impish smile gracing your lips and you knew you had precious seconds before you would drip so wet you’d drench him. 

You feel him shift and raise his arms around you, seconds later you feel the liquid being poured on your back, sliding down your spine to pool in the dip of your lower back.

“About an ounce.” He sounded breathless. Taking his hands and spreading the liquid up and down your back and down to cup your ass. His hands returned wet again, reaching down to thumb the seam of your pussy. The world melted away. 

“We should take some home,” You hear his voice and your cunt is already fluttering around nothing, “You know, just as a sample in case we run into something like this again.” You were already nodding your head in agreement when he dipped his fingers in your soaking folds. 

“The toy, too.” 

You grinned as he sank two fingers into your cunt.

  
  


.

.

.

Time is a concept lost on you. Blinded and only having the slow roll of Mando’s hips to keep you from floating far away. You feel him inch his cock in and out of you for what feels like hours. It wasn’t long after he first slid wetly inside you did you feel yourself drifting. Drifting in that heavy haze, like smoke curling around you and ears stuffed with cotton as you rolled your hips up to meet his. 

Din rolls his hips into you achingly slow, face buried in the crook of your neck as he pushes his weight on to you. The sheets are bunched up all around you, places you’ve gripped in blind ecstasy as he just rocks unhurriedly into you. Your body was growing used to the constant pleasure bleeding out of you, your orgasms steamrolling you completely each and every time as you shook and sobbed for him. 

His lips were pressed to your skin, smacking wetly as he sucked another mark into your neck. He never adds any more force to his thrusts, only inching in and out of you at a pace you could only describe as torture. Your eyes roll back when he bottoms out inside you again, the pleasure is mind-numbing. 

Your orgasm is clawing at you, your legs already shaking where they cling to his hips as you mewl. 

“ _ Again _ ?” He purrs from deep in his chest, “ _ My girl _ is cumming  _ a-gain-”  _

You make a low, anguished whine up to the ceiling before you start spasming hard on him, just as there is a jarring knock at the door somewhere in the room.

You don’t even remember what the room looks like. You both jump but it’s too late. Your orgasm is already burning a hole through you and your cry is far too loud, drenching his cock. Din had pulled away, looking at the door when it hit you and he was back in seconds to violently slant his mouth over your open one. Swallowing your cries as a deep rumble of bliss rattles around his chest, pushing his hips down into yours and  _ grinding _ down into you, bed frame bangs against the wall-

The knock comes again, louder this time. 

The female on the other side of the door calls your name. You can’t answer, trying to claw yourself back to clarity but it's impossible as tears gather at your waterline. 

“Your transports have arrived, would you like me to send them away?” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  



End file.
